


The Wrong Star

by ALWolfe



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Action, Angst, Corruption, Demigods, Emperor - Freeform, Fantasy, Gods, King - Freeform, Magic, Potions, Princes, Prophecy, Romance, Royalty, Thriller, Witch - Freeform, Wizard, prince - Freeform, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 47,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWolfe/pseuds/ALWolfe
Summary: The Levianon Empire is as strong as ever. What with its content citizens and constant lack of famines, not to mention the never ending blessing of their god Elnes... but everything has an end. So what happens when Elnes delivers word to his worshipers announcing the end of the empire at the hands of a mysterious person?Well... for one, his words are translated into a completely different message. Two, the masses wind up believing they're to receive a savior who will end the corruption the nobility refuses to acknowledge. And three, an opportunist arrives into the scene five years later.As for the savior? Who knows, honestly.*****A/N*****This is a rough draft so there are a lot of typos and grammatical errors! I'm planning to fix those once the story is complete!18+ only btw!





	1. Prologue

They were all in a panic over a series of simple sentences delivered by what had once been a dormant god of old. However, these sentences were delivered in three parts; all of which held an ancient tongue so dead it required a whole awful lot of mental necromancy just to decipher a single word. A task which took no longer than six months, plus a day and three hours.

But now, the three cardinals of the eastern temple of the Levianon Empire had finished transcribing the message into the common tongue. And what had once been a peaceful church now held nothing but hysteria and confusion. Not believing what they had put into written word, not trusting their own meager minds, they sought out the help of scholars—a strange occurrence given their testy relationship. However, it didn't matter how brilliant and secular the scholars may have been. The message didn't change.

And so, on the eve of the new year, the cardinals sat on cushioned seats, at a circular marble table with golden lace splayed upon it. A series of golden chalices, adorned with rubies and sapphires sat beside the three cardinals who so happened to be wearing white silk robes and golden sashes. As for the nine scholars accompanying them, they were merely given glass cups and uncomfortable chairs. Though none of the nine complained they still found the three cardinals detestable in their blatant shows of opulence in spite of the severity of the message.  
Still... they had to push their feelings aside.

"From the South East comes the star." Professor Elias read as the other men quietly listened. "Once the star rises my castle falls. Once my castle falls nothing stands."

A clap of thunder punctuated his words only to be followed by a flash of lightning which illuminated the stained glass windows all around the room. As if in response, the sconces flickered so harshly they almost snuffed themselves out in the process.

"No..." Cardinal Newt leaned forward, fingers intertwined over his pursed mouth. His bell shaped sleeves pooled over the table. "It can't be."

"There were four of us." Cardinal Lovett reminded him, his voice barely above a whisper. "Joseph wouldn't have died if the message weren't this severe, brother."

"But it can't be." He got to his feet, scratching at his scalp, brushing off his skullcap in the process. "The Levianon Empire was created and blessed by Elnes. We are a prosperous kingdom with little to no wars, there has never been a famine, there has never been any political tension within the empire. Why would he want it destroyed?! It makes no sense!"

"You say that because you haven't set foot outside the temple walls, cardinal." Professor Jackson sighed as he got up from his chair. "Of course you wouldn't know a thing about the recent drought in the north west, let alone the ever growing gap between the peasantry and the nobility. I could go on all day but I'm sure you three have mass to attend to."

"Mass!" Cardinal Oren covered his mouth, eyes wide. "What will we say to the public? They already expect us to deliver the message..."

Jackson shrugged a shoulder as he then headed for the door.

Elias lifted a brow, the left curl of his mustache rising as an amused grin took over his usually stony features. "Oh, to be a cardinal..."

Jackson grinned, placing a hand to his shoulder as he stepped past him, saying: "It's unholy to mock the unfortunate, good sir."

Elias and a few nearby men had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing. Though their snickers weren't lost on the cardinals. Fortunately for them, the cardinals were to preoccupied with how they were going to address the public in the coming five minutes to even bother chastising them.

"We could always cancel mass," suggested Cardinal Lovett, his golden curls escaping from his braids. "maybe this monsoon is providence?"

Cardinal Newt shook his head as the sound of the door closing behind the last scholar echoed within the chamber.

"Then what do we say? We can't just tell them god Elnes gave us a message of impending doom!"

"No. We cant, but... wait a minute." Cardinal Oren lifted a finger as he took a step back, his eyes held a faraway look as a plan came to mind. "We're just human aren't we?"

"Yes." Cardinal Lovett gave him a look. "We are..."

"Humans are flawed.... aren't we?" He gave him a smile. "We make a lot of mistakes don't we?"

"What are you getting at Oren?"

Cardinal Newt, alongside cardinal Lovett waited for him to spell it out for them.

"For all we know, the word 'castle' could just be a mistake. Maybe we meant to transcribe 'corruption' instead. Maybe the message doesn't foretell the fall of the empire but rather the rise of a savior, a hero."

"Sounds like a good plan." Cardinal Newt nodded. "But what about the scholars? There's no way they wont keep the truth from the public."

"Don't worry about them." Cardinal Oren said as he adjusted his cloth over his skullcap. "They're being dealt with as we speak."

Cardinal Lovett frowned. "Please tell me you didn't have them killed within the temple walls. This is a holy place, need I remind you?"

"Lovett I am the former crown prince of the empire. Need I remind you of the pecking order around here?"

"Your former status is irrelevant here!" He snapped. "I will not have you tarnishing the sanctity of the temple! By Ensel above, you know what happens to those who disrespect—"

"He hasn't come down in eons," he crossed his arms over his chest. "and don't you think lying to his believers is a greater disrespect than staining the temple itself?"

Lovett gritted his teeth giving up on his hypocritical barks.

"But if it lets you rest easy, do know that I had them killed in a stainless manner. No swords involved."

"Alright," Newt said, rubbing his temples. "Let's go, the people are waiting."

"Very well."

And so the three cardinals went on out of the chamber and made their way towards the sanctuary. Ready to deliver a false message of hope...

The nobility met this message with awe and wonder meanwhile the peasantry saw this as an answer to prayers long unanswered. They all waited for the so called savior to come forth. In turn, their high hopes kept any signs of political unrest at bay.  
That is, up until Arthur Jackson, son of Professor Jackson, came into the picture five years later claiming to hail from the south eastern side of the empire.

His father had managed to escape the ambush orchestrated by Cardinal Oren—though he didn't leave unscathed. In his last moments, he managed to tell his then ten year old son the truth the Cardinals were so desperate to keep under wraps, leaving behind a piece of transcribed paper as evidence. Knowing full well his son had little love for him he had at least hoped his conniving nature would take over and lead him to a path of power. Which, as history would later on echo, is exactly what happened.

Knowing himself to be too weak both in body and mind the kid went on to train himself for five years without stop. Devouring his father's books with earnest and perfecting his swordplay as well as his combat skills each day. He did all this as a way of stalling the second part of his plan.  
Given how the so-called savior would be someone sent by Elnes it'd be obvious he'd be marked with the god's blessing. Though it was common knowledge throughout the empire, anyone carrying the will of Elnes would inevitably hold his holy teachings to heart, with the words of The Book of Leviannon fully memorized. The only definite proof of this fervor was the marking of Elnes' blessing right beneath the hosts right breast, near the sternum and a ways beneath the heart. The only issue with this was that the marking itself was not presented as a tattoo but rather as branding given how Elnes' divinity is presented as ever burning.

Funnily enough it was his father who had once told him that Elnes never branded his followers. That the brandings were nothing more than a form of spiritual manipulation created by The Grand Leviannon Church in order to keep its believers complacent.

With that information at hand, Arthur went out of his way to read the nation's holy book (The Book of Leviannon) seven times until he was fully confident he'd memorized the volume. Once he felt himself sufficiently ready to do such a task he proceeded to fabricate his own branding iron, though this task took time given his perfectionist nature. It wasn't until he thought Elnes' symbol was created beyond perfection that he went on to brand himself.

Finally, he made an appearance before the temple in the year one-hundred and twenty. He made himself known for having Elnes' blessing on his body. He told those who would hear that he woke up one day with the blessing and the unexplainable amount of knowledge he now possessed.  
It didn't take long for his following to grow so much so that his influence rivaled that of the then emperor, Julian Enselio Oren I.  
At first, the three Cardinals went on to disprove Arthur's lies in public only to unintentionally give him opportunities to constantly prove the validity of his claims. Within the week those three Cardinals mysteriously died in their sleep leaving the public to believe Elnes had stricken them down for their disdain towards his blessed savior.  
However, knowing they had been poisoned by his closest followers the church confronted Arthur in secret only to wind up blackmailed into becoming his most faithful servants.

Given how the emperors of old were only granted power via Elnes' blessings, Arthur's followers believed it only natural for him to be their new emperor. Due to this ever growing belief a coup d'etat was practically unavoidable. And so the Oren bloodline was promptly extinguished and replaced with the Jackson bloodline which in turn remained in power for the following four hundred years.

********  
********

The south east had once been thriving, brimming with blessing and happy citizens. However, one night four-hundred years ago, all traces of civilization had been completely erased without reason. No trace of humanity was left behind. Not even ash.  
One would think that part of the empire would be left abandoned, however, one day a mysterious figure came riding into the scene. With a wave of his hand an enormous stone castle rose from the ashes. The size of this castle put the empire's opulence to shame. Still, the emperor knew that that wasn't sufficient reason to wage war on this newborn kingdom.  
Of course, as luck would have it a good reason came into the fray in the form of a debilitating economy, increased famines and pestilences, the ever growing abuse from those in power, and so on.  
At first the political unrest had been directed at Arthur who in turn forced the church to deliver yet another false message. This false message placed all the blame on the south eastern kingdom, saying that since the kingdom had been erected with magic it was an obvious show of defiance towards god's authority and creation; because of this, Elnes had revoked his blessings completely.  
The message worked like a charm: all attention had been diverted from the teenage emperor and directed at the magicians within the kingdom.

From then on, it was forbidden to use magic and those who were caught engaging in it were executed on the spot. The hysteria reached such heights that it didn't take long for people to turn in their own siblings, friends, lovers, or even parents if they so much as suspected them of using magic. As a result mass executions became the new normal all around the kingdom.  
Upon realizing they were no longer wanted let alone tolerated every single surviving magician ran to the south eastern woods never to be seen again.

Meanwhile this was happening the empire went on to wage war against the mysterious kingdom, though heavily underestimating the power it held by sending in only five hundred knights. However, when not a single soldier returned dead or alive the empire then went and sent a platoon of its best knights only to have them disappear as well. Thereafter, feeling desperate, the empire sent twenty-thousand knights only to have them suffer the same odd fate. As if to prove a point, the south eastern kingdom returned the deceased knights two weeks later. Coincidentally, it just so happened to be raining all over Levianon when dead bodies began to fall from the sky.

In response the entire empire united, swearing vengeance, and sought out the south eastern kingdom only to wind up running in circles before realizing they couldn't find the it any longer. Still, they tried again and again and again before finally giving up and moving on with their lives. However because of these strange circumstances the south eastern kingdom was thereby named: The Lost Kingdom.

And now, four hundred years later, as the Leviannon empire celebrated the anniversary of the Jackson bloodline's ascension the single largest star in the night sky fell to the earth. Its light was so bright it disrupted all celebrations throughout the nation. Not only that but its celestial divinity was so grand it burned away the shield that once kept the south eastern kingdom safely hidden, revealing its humbling beauty for all to see.

To anyone who dared ask, they claimed that a liquid light had been streaming into the earth as if god Elnes himself were pouring his blessings into the earth. Many made claims that the light itself had been pouring into the open arms of a homeless youth. Though no traces of such a person were ever found...


	2. —The Bread Thief—

Aelly Elneser was nothing more than a merchant who sold stolen precious objects on the street. Every so often she'd be caught red-handed and would have to make a run for it cursing under her breath. Still, she'd make a decent enough profit to buy sufficient food for the night and as she took a bite out of her sweet bread she rested her head over her arm as she lay beneath the bridge.

In spite of her homeless status and constant hunger she still didn't regret escaping the nunnery five years ago. Most orphaned girls were sent to an orphanage before being sent to a nunnery by age fifteen in order to devote their lives to a god who never cared. Her personality was such that she held little to no desire to live such a life so she did what she had to and made a run for it.

And now here she was at the border of the south eastern wood, resting beneath a bridge like some kind of troll, counting stars as she finished eating her bread.

To avoid detection by the church, she disguised herself as a man by cutting her straight black hair and donning on male clothing. She wore gray pantaloons, leather shoes, and an oversized shirt beneath layers of wool coats. Presently however she felt too hot to be wearing such clothing in the middle of the world's most humid night so she promptly removed them, untied her shirt, and undid the uncomfortable binding underneath. Once that was done she fell back down and sighed contently, breathing deeply now that her ribs were free to expand however they wanted.

"My hair's getting longer again..." she sighed as she tugged at it, noticing that it now reached past her ears.

Cursing under her breath, she sat up once again and reached for her leather bag, seeking out her dagger. It was then that a beam of light caught her attention. Shielding her eyes from the winking light coming from the river before her she got to her feet and began to approach the shore thinking she'd probably find something worthwhile like a jewel. She took off her shoes and folded up her pants as she then waded into the cool water and took a hold of the bright object as it floated in her direction.

It was too bright for her to see properly but its weight didn't escape her. It weighted as much as a cat and felt as tough as iron and it clung to her for dear life. Its sudden movements startled Aelly so much she lost her footing and came splashing down, landing on her rear as the creature's cries reached high heaven. She cried out when it dug its claws into her sides as it attempted to use her as some sort of raft. Before she knew it, she found herself dragging the panicked creature to land before tossing it as far away from her as she could.

"Out of all the idiots in this goddamn town you had to—ugh!" She clutched at her bleeding gut and glowered at it only to stop mid-step. "... stab me."

A dragon stood on all fours starring up at her. The creature had four legs and twelve claws sharp enough to stab a perp with (Aelly would know). It had a pair of horns which seemed to curl at the ends toward each other. Its wings were unlike anything she'd ever expect from a dragon: they had magnificent black and red feathers with sharp talons near the tendons. The dragon's tail was twice the size of its body, circling protectively around him as its iridescent golden eyes settled in on her brown ones.

Then, as soon as Aelly took a tentative step forward, the small creature let out a strained roar and spewed out what was probably meant to be frightening flames. However what came out was a spark or two which just so happened to land on Aelly's toes causing her to jump and instinctively hold her foot only to lose her balance and fall back into the water.

"Agh!!"

Content with the minimal amount of damage he'd caused he sat down and let out a chirp before scampering toward her camp.

By the time she managed to get back on her feet, the infant creature had already eaten nearly all of her food. And as if to rub salt on her wound, it was eating on her cot and getting ready to nap!

"Hey!"

The dragon gave her a look of pure annoyance before letting itself fall onto her one and only hand-made pillow, shredding it in the process. It didn't seem to care much about that though since it simply let out an undignified huff, practically judging her for her subpar pillow making skills.

"Alright, you're very tired, I can see that now."

He answered her with an undignified chirp.

"Oh yeah," she slowly began to approach him. "You must've had a tough day today."

The dragon nodded, exhaling deeply as its eyes closed.

".... you totally deserve a break."

Unable to detect the sarcasm dripping out of her tongue, the dragon proceeded to let out a content chirp as it then closed its eyes. Completely unaware of her stalking him up until she upended her cot and wrapped the blankets around the struggling dragon. Its tail constantly whacked her upside the head and had almost poked her in the eye once or twice but that didn't deter her at all and once she had him wrapped up in her arms, she proceeded to grab the ribbons that had once been used for her binding and used them to restrain the creature. The dragon, seeing no other way out, tried to burn her alive only to realize that all that came out of his snout was nothing more than smoke and chewed up bread.

"Ha! Loser."

If the dragon had been capable of verbal communication it would have told her to go [love] herself however it was just a winged reptile with the vocal range of a banshee. And so for the next thirty seconds the dragon went on to let her know who the loser really was here by casting never ending roars at her. In his head he sound mighty and fierce. However, externally? Externally, Aelly likened him to a sassy husky pup and nothing more.

"Oh yeah, yeah, big bad girl." She tried to hold off the mocking tone in her voice but failed. "yes, yes. Me bad."

This only made the dragon angrier though it couldn't do much of anything besides roar at her as she carried him to her open leather bag. He watched as she then picked it up and emptied it out before dumping him inside it. He was about to try to escape when she closed the bag and tied it shut.

"I'm glad I met you," she grunted as she hoisted him over her shoulder.

Caught off guard, the dragon fell silent.

"Now I'm about to be a thousand times richer than anyone else in this stinkin' town."

If the dragon could, he really would've told her he didn't plan on being sold off by her of all mongrels. Still, actions speak louder than words....


	3. —Bad Attitudes—

Given how she expected herself to hit the jackpot with this new (though annoying) find, Aelly no longer bothered to shield her figure. After all, she'd be rich enough to be unreachable. She could already see it:  
Herself perched on a loveseat standing atop white marble floors which dimly reflected the light falling in from the chandelier up above the domed white ceiling as a cool breeze came flying in from the open windows, a ways beside her loveseat. Uniformed servants would trip over themselves just to pop grapes into her mouth, either that or they'd refill her goblet with red-wine. She imagined herself wearing a red silk dress, her ears would be adorned with golden hoops and all manner of glittering jewels would adorn he—

She shook her head sighing as she felt the dragon moving about in her leather bag. Though she told him to stop moving he didn't seem to have much regard for her and kept on doing as he pleased which in turn was starting to give her back pain the further she walked through the town square. In an effort to express her irritation she jabbed at her bag with her elbow only to later on smirk as the creature then tried to jab her right back and fail.

"If you stop moving I'll buy you all the food you want."

That seemed to have done the trick. Well, that's what she'd assumed for the following five seconds before the dragon suddenly popped out its head and rested its jaw on her shoulder, glowering up at her. Of course Sparky boy here wouldn't listen to her.

Startled, she looked around wide eyed hoping to whatever lucky stars she had left that no one had seen the stupid creature on her bag. Had anyone else seen such a rare creature she'd have to start making a run for it or else they'd try to steal it off her and make a profit. A profit that was rightfully hers. Worse off, had any knights caught sight of the creature they'd take it off her hands, accuse her of witchcraft and she'd then be executed. Either way it was a lose-lose situation.

Luckily they both happened to be alone which of course made sense given how they were in an alleyway which just so happened to be short cut to the marketplace. Still her anxiety was on high and she couldn't keep herself relaxed while carrying a lizard with attitude problems in the middle of town. She really should've thought things through but no, the promise of never ending fortune had clouded her usually sharp judgement. That and the fact that she wanted to get rid of the very animal who had not only dunked her in cold water but also eaten all of her food rations in one selfish sitting.

looking over her shoulder she saw a few "adventurous" nobles gallivanting about arm in arm, past the alleyway. A few guards could be seen as well, watching over said nobles as they themselves walked around the square making pleasant conversation as they meandered from stall to stall. The salesmen in said stalls were ecstatic at the prospect of ripping off dumb rich nobles with their mediocre products.

The stone walls at either side of the dark alleyway brought Aelly a weird sense of comfort as the dragon continued to use her shoulder as a pillow as its claws took hold of her shoulders in a vice like grip. Lines of laundry zig-zagged between the two walls, providing further camouflage from outsiders as she then ventured a look ahead noticing that the new year's eve festival was going in full swing. What, with it being a few minutes to midnight.  
Much like the merchants in the town square, the ones in the market place had vigorously decorated their stalls with the empire's colors: red, white, and yellow. Papier-mâché depictions of the nation's flower, the yellow Pentas, had been hung ten feet high from wall to wall and far away from the sconces and lamps illuminating the wide alley that made up the marketplace. Florists had discarded their usual flowers, leaving behind nothing but pentas flowers on their stalls. Dancers and musicians made their way through the alley, mystifying whatever child happened to notice the multicolored sparklers the dancers held in both hands. Fortunately, for that end nobody had noticed the koala lizard hanging on her back as it grumbled whatever judgment it had on the sparklers he was glowering at.

"Get back in the bag."

The dragon let out a sound that sounded a lot like a no.

"I wasn't asking."

He huffed.

"If they see you they'll kill you."

The dragon raised his head, inhaled something heavy and finally exhaled a series of sparks that died out within seconds.

"Oh yeah, you can totally defend yourself. I'm so sorry for doubting you!"

He glared at her.

"Get back in the bag."

He shook his head before settling back down on her shoulder.

"Fine. I was going to buy you some really nice meat but I—"

He snorted and rolled his eyes cutting her off. Then as if to drive his point home, he kicked off her leather bag to the ground and wrapped his tail around her middle.  
When she struggled to remove his tail the creature then began to let out what sounded like a cackle. Knowing full well that his ruckus would attract attention, Aelly reached out and snatched a dark blue blanket, tying it around her neck just in time.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

"This is all your fault!"

Instead of replying as he usually did, the dragon cowered in silence. An odd reaction which she had little to no time to ponder as she then turned around and saw a young man standing near the alleyway, craning his neck for better visuals. As luck would have it, his features had been obscured so much so that Aelly herself couldn't tell what his social status was.

"Hello?"

"He can't see us, we're fine." She murmured, still the dragon didn't relax. "By the looks of him he's nothing I can't handle."

"Hello?" He ventured further into the alley, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I can see you, so you'd better cooperate or else."

She could see him them. He was a middle aged knight with humongous bags under his sunken blue eyes. Though he was clean shaven and well groomed he looked no richer than any of the peasants around town. His brown hair which was usually concealed by his helmet was now tied back and tucked over his ears. A long white cloak partially concealed his clothing which consisted of a silk blouse beneath a thick leather vest, dark pantaloons and buckled leather boots. 

"It's just me here young-man." Aelly tried her best to age up her voice.

His grip tightened on the sword. "Why didn't you answer sooner?"

"I didn't know if you were a ruffian. I'm by my lonesome you see."

That answer seemed to do the trick. He paused mid-step, observing her odd outline of her cloaked figure, as he pondered what to do with her. Overall, Justin Verner had little to no energy to chase after suspicious old weirdly shaped women—even if his instincts told him to investigate further. So instead of pushing any further, he waved her off and went on about his way. Knight or no, he really meant to enjoy this night of celebration.

Aelly didn't hesitate to make a run for it the moment he turned his back on her, making her way into the marketplace, disturbing tired dancers and screaming merchants. It wasn't so much as the close encounter with the tired knight, or the possibility of being caught carrying a dragon in public but rather... it was an odd feeling that was rapidly growing. An anxious feeling that told her she had to find shelter and soon. She couldn't be caught under the night sky. She didn't know or understand why, even the dragon seemed concerned with her erratic behavior, but the feeling itself wouldn't let her be. It'd been bubbling up since she entered the town square and at first she assumed it was because she'd gone in without her male disguise. Then she thought it probably had to do with the dragon on her back. Then with the knight. And now she'd run out of reasons for being so afraid.

Or so she thought up until her right hand randomly shot up at the sky just as a stream of white light came pouring down.


	4. —Cause & Effect—

The light didn't hurt her upon contact. It simply wrapped around her wrist like a magical bracelet of sorts as she shielded her eyes. The light itself though not physically harmful was blinding and hard to ignore. Commoner and noble alike saw the stream of light pouring on down into the marketplace, which in turn wasn't very surprising given how the light itself brought back the daylight. The dancers stopped dancing, the merchants stopped yelling for attention, consumers stopped purchasing. Even the common dog stopped begging for food from under the table. All eyes were on Aelly as she received this random downpour into her wrist. Or so was the case up until the sounds of screams filled the once lively atmosphere.   
Looking over yonder everyone saw what should have only been the stuff of legend and tall tales. Yes, it was customary for the common folk to stay behind closed doors whenever it rained given how the superstition dictated that whoever walked under the rain would catch the eye of Ilema. Still, no one really believed they'd catch bad omens if they got caught in the rain; they simply followed tradition. But now, as they gazed upon the enormous structure they began to wonder just how much of the legend happened to be true to history.

*******  
*******   
~Five seconds prior to the light~

Ilema's a goddess who just so happens to be the direct opposite from Elnes. This difference is what had painted her off as evil; an easy feat given how she was a goddess of war while her male counterpart just so happened to a god of peace.   
In retrospect they were simply two sides of the same coin which Haravac Stonehall just so happened to be mindlessly flipping over and over in his tower.

Seeing how he'd been imprisoned for the past four centuries or so, he wasn't sure anymore at this point, he felt it pointless to wear proper clothing. Though even if he did his garments had gone out of fashion centuries ago, what with the introductions of pantaloons and their fast replacement for togas. Still, given how his own people feared him too much to even bother approaching his ridiculously shabby tower, he had no option but to use those weathered clothes during cold nights. Not that they made much of a difference.

Presently, he sat on his cot against the stone wall, covered in what had once been a toga and now resembled nothing more than a rat's forgotten meal. His dark eyes seemed to be entranced by the way his flipping coin caught the moonlight that streamed through the boarded window to his left. After all, he had no other means of entertainment.   
Or so was the case up until the moonlight appeared to grow and grow to the point where it became blinding. This was such a sudden change that he leapt out of his bed fully expecting a military attack from the petulant child emperor. Well, he mused as he pushed himself back upright, he's probably dead by now so there'd have to be a whole other explanation for that blinding light. The thought of what it could mean brought a rush of excitement throughout his body, giving him more than enough energy to rush toward the boarded window. Reaching out, he then grabbed the nailed wood and with single tug, snatched it off his window in a matter of minutes. By the time he was finished the light had gone out though, even so he had still managed to see it and had very well calculated its location.

Grinning he took a hold of his torn up toga and hastily donned it on before leaping out the window commencing his search for the real savior of the empire.

"This should be fun."

**********  
**********

"Make sure not to follow in your father's footsteps, my children."

In spite of being centuries old, the emperor didn't look any older than sixty and sported the vitality of a youth. He had wrinkles, laugh lines, and peppered hair as well as a well maintained braided beard. His deep set eyes held little to no signs of humanity. In spite of his heightened status he despised wearing fine garments opting out instead for silky white robes which pooled at his feet, golden sashes, and red sandals. He did this not because he was humble but rather because he needed his subjects to fully believe him a saint ordained by Elnes, portraying himself as the one and only savior of the empire.

"Your father here thought he could defy the will of Elnes above."

Salome and Val Jackson remained stoic as they watched their great great grandfather, emperor Arthur Jackson draw out his sword from their father's back. He then proceeded to use their father's cloak as a means to clean his bloodstained sword before pushing away with a kick. He then cast his cold blues upon his grandchildren, analyzing them as he sheathed his blade.

Salome couldn't help herself: "If you being in power were the will of god himself then why are you so afraid of a coup?"

"I am not afraid of losing power," he took a handkerchief offered by a servant and began to clean his hands. "I am enraged at the blasphemy your father tried to—"

"A man losing power is not blasphemy." Salome sighed. "it's just politics."

"It is, when we're speaking of a common day man. Not one ordained by god Elnes to save the empire."

Val nudged her with his elbow, hissing: "Sister..."

She glanced at her younger brother, frowning at the fear in his eyes before finally giving in to his silent plea:

"Your majesty, I apologize for my poor manners. The light that appeared just now has disturbed me deeply."

He didn't buy it, that much she could tell. After all they were both made up of the same caliber, just as smart and conniving and cold. And because they were so conniving she fully understood why he never resorted to screaming matches or violent outbursts whenever she openly defied his authority. After all, he was a man famed for his benevolence and intelligence never not once using violence unless he fully needed to do so.   
Still, the main reason she'd survived for so long was because she'd played her cards right, helping him here and there until she finally became indispensable to his majesty.

"I understand," he said finally. "it disturbed the lot of us, even your father who thought it a sign to dethrone me."

The veiled threat wasn't lost on her: "Your kindness humbles me, your majesty."

"Much appreciated. Now, I'm sure this scene here has shocked you beyond belief." He returned the handkerchief to the servant. "For your own well-being I suggest you two go rest."

Both siblings spoke in unison as they bowed deeply before him: "May Elnes bless his star."

Once he'd turned his back to them they left the hall and made their way to their respective rooms. They had made plans to escape with their father weeks ago however they didn't plan for their father to be so power hungry he'd attempt a coup. Now that he was out of the picture and all of the empire's attention was cast upon the strange beam of light, Salome and Val saw no other option than to hastily execute the plan. They both discarded their expensive clothes, ditching their jewelry and objects. Promptly replacing them with servant uniforms.

Having a rough idea as to how dangerous the outside world was for women, Salome decided to carry weapons under her skirts and within her sleeves. She had considered dressing as a man but discarded the idea when she realized it was a whole lot easier to hide knives with a skirt. This in mind she then tied her shoulder length hair and grabbed a blonde wig, placing it carefully before proceeding to remove her makeup. She thereafter tied the apron over her dress before rushing over to her brother's room (though making sure there weren't any guards around first).  
Val met her wearing a servant uniform of his own and accompanied her to the servant's quarters where a secret passageway awaited them. They wouldn't have known of this passageway were it not for one of Salome's spies whom she had no other choice but to kill once they'd delivered her desired information. There's no way she'd leave any potential wagging tongues alone.

Once they were outside they rushed towards the unmarked carriage awaiting them and closed the doors behind them. Once the carriage started to move they then removed their uniforms, switching them for commoner clothing. Once that was all said and done, they finally rested proceeding to wait out the ride until the reached the south east where they were sure they'd find the real savior.   
Once they found the savior, Salome mused, she'd finally be able to kill the emperor with her bare hands.

"I can't wait..."


	5. —Chimeras & Dragons—

Sitting atop a sturdy tree-branch he observed the savior. Examining her as he tossed another twig at the dragon that had begun clawing its way up the tree, its golden eyes zeroing in on him with what should've been a predatory glint.

Shortly after that sudden light beam appeared in front of the entire empire she'd panicked and ran back to the river where she then hid beneath her decrepit bridge. Which was all well and good for Haravac given how he'd grown tired of chasing her across the town.

She was taller than the average woman and very lean with little to no curves which in turn made her male disguise all the more effective, with or without the binding. She had deep-set brown eyes and thin brows as well as thin lips. She also had a sharp jawline as well as a pretty elongated nose. Not to mention her facial expressions weren't cute or dainty at all but rather smug, condescending, and even mocking. The only girly thing about her was her voice.

"Tsk." He tossed her dragon another twig. "So not cute..."

Taking offense at his words, the dragon then attempted breathe fire his way only to fail and have his own sparks rain back down on him. Still, the creature held on to the tree digging its claws further into the wood as it went, persisting beyond the pain.

Haravac raised a brow.

In the meantime, Aelly stared down at her right wrist in awe. Given how she'd received the mark from the heavens themselves she thought she ought to have the mark of the empire on her. Instead the iridescent blue-green mark depicted a rose residing within a star. Sure, the divine mark was beautiful but had it been sent by Elnes it would've depicted a half star overshadowing a moon with a red gem at the very center. Meaning, this mark wasn't given to her by the god of the empire. Which made sense, she mused, given how there's already a savior ruling over the empire.

So what's with this mark?

No longer wanting to think about it she then covered her wrist with a stray cloth and went on to observe the looming castle that had appeared out of nowhere. Given how her encampment was directly at the border of the Lost Kingdom she found herself incredibly close to it.

The castle, though partially hidden by the trees that surrounded it, appeared to be made of faded red stone with light indigo tiles covering the roofs of its many towers. None of its windows sported shutters though they appeared to be made up of stained glass. She couldn't see further but the structure had to be absolutely massive for it to be seen from this distance, not to mention its towers appeared to poke at the stars.

"See that tower over there? The tallest one to the left?"

She nodded, too caught up in her amazement to register the fact that a stranger had just spoken to her. The tower he referred to appeared to be way more decrepit than the abandoned bridge she resided beneath. It's roof had one too many holes and its singular window appeared to have been destroyed by an inside force. Not to mention time itself appeared to have taken a generous bite off its stony stem. Why it still remained standing still seemed to be as much of a mystery as her tattoo.

"I used to live there."

Finally catching on to reality she spun around and caught her dragon way up a tree, baring its fangs at the lone man leisurely sitting on a branch. His back was to the tree as its bare leg dangled back and forth, taunting the poor creature as he continued to toss twigs at him.

Without a second thought she reached for her dagger only to realize she didn't have any weapons on her person. "Who are you?"

"Haravac Stonehall." He then proceeded to jump down from his tree-branch, rolling upon landing before bouncing back to his feet, hand outstretched. "And what would your name be?"

He appeared to be just as tall as she was though skinnier. He wore a torn up graying toga over his frail body as his matted beard and shock of tangled brown hair kept his facial features well out of sight. Well, save for his pitch black eyes which appeared to know more than they should. Everything about this tree-climbing hobo rubbed her the wrong way.

She ignored his hand, stepping back. "Aelly."

"Just Aelly?"

"Aelly Elneser."

"Dont tell me, your birthday is on the first day of the first month?"

She nodded frowning. He'd already guessed her identifiers were given by a church owned orphanage. Still, that wasn't the issue at hand. "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer her dragon let out a yelp.

Startled both of them turned around and saw that the dragon was still clinging to the tree. His tail was completely wrapped around the trunk, and so tightly it was tearing the bark apart.

"Your chimera appears to have a broken wing." He began to approach the tree. "And a whole awful lot of internal damage."

"What?" She went after him. "Chimera? That's a dragon!"

"A normal dragon doesn't have feathered wings, antlers, let alone near human intelligence." Looking at her from over his shoulder he frowned. "Where did you find it?"

"Over there," she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, aiming at the river. "His scales were very reflective so that's how I found him."

"Yeah, normal dragon scales shouldn't be reflective." He stared up at the frightened creature. "Call it an evolutionary survival trait. They used to be hunted for sport, you know?"

"So how do you know he's got internal damage?" She looked up at the creature. "He seems fine to me."

"He tried to burn me earlier but failed." He touched the tree. "Flawed fire breathing is sign of internal damage."

"Oh..."

She then watched as he proceeded to speak to the tree in a strange language that seemed to blend in with the atmosphere. A language so natural it could easily be ignored as background noise to anyone who didn't pay attention.

As if recognizing the tongue, the drag—chimera dared a glance down, seeking out the source only to find the irritating man from before talking to his tree. Before he could react however, the tree began to move on its own. Its branches took a hold of him, forcibly tearing him from itself as it then gently tossed him into Aelly's open arms.

Much to her surprise the dragon bounced off her arms, landing on all fours only to then bare it fangs at the strange magic man. His one good wing had set itself awkwardly beside his front leg, as if threatening to shank him with its protruding talon if he so much as approached the two of them.

"So you do magic?"

"That wasn't magic." He shrugged a shoulder. "I just asked the tree to set it down for us."

"Trees don't usually respond when you talk to them though."

"If you say so." He then looked at the chimera. "He seems to have bonded himself to you."

"Bonded?"

He nodded. "He may be a chimera but the majority of his composition is that of a dragon." As he spoke he took a step forward only to have the chimera lash his tail at his feet forcing him to step back further. "Yeah, dragons tend to bond themselves to people that make them feel safe. Though they rarely do so."

"But... I didn't do anything for him to feel safe with me. I tried to sell him as soon as I got my hands on him."

"He must've been desperate." He knelt down before it and extended his hand, allowing him to get used to his presence. "Chimeras are often created by dark wizards and those that survive are often tortured to death in the name of science... I can only guess that by rescuing him and thereafter expressing disinterest he must've deemed you trustworthy."

She frowned, staring down at the chimera as it took a few tentative steps forward, sniffing his scent before finally settling his snout into the palm of his hand. Haravac then examine him in the guise of petting him so as not to scare the creature. Moments later, Haravac had managed to make the animal rest on its side as he then examined his belly.

"Are you some kind of animal expert?"

"I'm a dragon expert." He corrected as he then nodded to himself. "I'm going to need absolute silence for this."

Aelly nodded as she then watched Haravac speak in yet another language while holding down the dragon by the neck. With his free hand he formed a rune over his belly over and a over again until a faint glow began to emanate from the tips of his finger. Before long, he released the chimera who then scampered back to its feet before rushing back to Aelly's side before retaking his defensive position.

Both Aelly and Haravac watched him closely as both his wings appeared to move fluidly on their own, appearing to have been healed miraculously.

"What did you do?"

"It was just a simple healing spell. There wasn't as much internal damage as I'd originally thought." He then paused. "Does he have a name?"

"I didn't bother giving him one." She scratched the back of her head. "I mean I was planning on selling him."

"You shouldn't." He folded his arms over his chest. "By the looks of him he'll be in worse hands than before if you actually go through with that."

She nodded accepting his advice. "Still... I'm not good at names."

"I'd help you but I'm not the one he bonded with."

"How do you even know he bonded with me? What does that even mean?"

"Dragons are very territorial, especially with their bonded masters." He explained. "He wouldn't be so defensive about you if you weren't his master."

"M-master? He chose me as his master?!"

He nodded. "As his bonded master he won't allow anyone else to ride him once he grows to his full potential. If you die he dies with you."

"Well that's a bit extreme."

He shrugged a shoulder. "So what are you going to call him?"

Feeling just as curious about her answer, the chimera's ears angled themselves in her direction, awaiting her answer.

"Let me think...."

She glanced back at the river, at its calm sparkling waters splitting the lush green land in half as it went way past her line of sight.

"How about... River?"

The chimera fully turned around, fully disregarding Haravac as it then cast her an affronted glare before shaking its head wildly.

"Why not? It's a nice name."

"Do... do you hate your chimera?"

"Fine." She sighed. "How about Dracus?"

The chimera cast a pleading look Haravac's way who in turn offered a very noncommittal shrug.

"You're so picky." She ran a hand through her short hair. "How about Stephen?"

The offended look on his face told her more than enough.

"Excalibur?"

He shook his head.

"Flayre?"

He shook his head yet again.

"How about.... Erebus?"

When he didn't shake his head she went on to ask: "Is that what you want to be called? Erebus?"

He nodded.

"Very well." She smiled then aimed a finger at the unlit pile of twigs resting beside her cot beneath the bridge. "Can you try to light that up for me, Erebus?"

When the dragon left to do its duty, completely forgetting Haravac's presence as it went she found herself wondering why the chimera preferred to be called Erebus over Flayre. After all, Flayre was the cooler name between the two.

"Eager to see his fire breathing abilities?"

She nodded.

"I hope you're prepared."

"What for?"

"Erebus is an infant." Haravac reminded her. "Infantile dragons don't know how to—"

As if to prove his point, Erebus released an enormous fire onto the pile of dried up twigs. It all would have been well and fine had he not also proceeded to burn down her belongings alongside the bridge itself.

"—control their fire breathing."

"Erebus! No!"


	6. —Blood Ties—

"Did you really think you two could outsmart me?"

Both the princess and the prince found themselves on their knees before the emperor. A pair of knights flanked the both of them, daggers at their throat, forcing them to sit upright.

They were inside the throne room, kneeling directly before the marble steps that lead to the stage on which the emperor's throne sat. Stained glass depicting Elnes blessing Arthur as he ascended the throne filled the ceiling as the moonlight brought about dim multicolored light into the room. The lamps set up on the alabaster walls brought further illumination into the room allowing anyone to see mark of the empire on the floor. A pair of banners depicting that same mark hung at either side of the cushioned throne.

Two priests, seven cardinals, and thirty nuns stood at either side of the room watching the scene unfold with cool stony eyes. The two priest flanked the throne on which the emperor sat, whispering into his ears every now and then only to have him swat them away like flies.

"Do you know how many people out there wish to be in your shoes?" He frowned. "How un—"

"It is precisely because we are in such an elevated position that we thought it best to leave our royal statuses, your majesty."

"Did I allow you to speak?!"

Val didn't flinch. Throughout the twenty years of his life he knew it was a smart idea to fear his bloodthirsty great great grandfather. Even smarter still, would be to keep out of his way and pretend to love him unconditionally. Even if that man just so happened to kill his great great grandmother and her family, barely allowing her children to remain. Only to later on kill those very children out of pure boredom leaving behind one boy who grew to both resent and fear him beyond reason. Still, that very boy kept his mutinous thoughts to himself and sought to live his life quietly and out of his way. He married a widowed duchess and together they raised both Salome and Val in peace. That is up until their mother caught the emperor's eye. He sought her out only to be refused time and time again before finally growing tired of her rejection. Once he'd finally tired of this rejection however, he sought out her relatives and killed them all in secret, presenting their bodies to her as he then placed the blame on her. He expected her to grow so afraid she couldn't force herself to reject him once again. What he didn't plan on was her writing a letter to her husband, explaining everything, before proceeding to poison herself.

This all happened less than three months ago. From then on, knowing himself to be too powerless their father then began to plan an escape all the while wondering how Elnes could deem such a twisted man as the savior. That is up until he saw the beam of light falling from the heavens followed by the reveal of what should've been a kingdom of legend. It was then that he knew that maybe, Elnes realized his mistake and marked a much better person as the savior of the land. With those sorts of thoughts flowing in, his resentment fed into his courage and before he knew it he found himself being killed by the emperor before his children.

And now, while Salome's bloodlust grew alongside her need for revenge. Val's cunning appeared to feed itself from his ever growing bloodlust. He knew that the more frightened he seemed the more likely the emperor would underestimate him. Still, he'd grown tired of acting like a wuss, seeking now a new tactic to freely leave his clutches. If that didn't work however, then he'd have no other option but to kill everyone in this room.

"Weren't you demanding an explanation? Doesn't an explanation warrant a response?" He angled his head. "Or is your majesty simply being unreasonable?"

Salome gave her brother a wide-eyed look. Sure, she knew he'd been acting like a frightened cat all along but she never thought he'd posses the sufficient courage to speak out of turn. That was usually her M.O anyway.

One of the two priests, Father Orandi took offense at this: "Is your majesty going to allow such—?!"

Arthur lifted his hand silencing him. "Very well, explain."

"My sister and I have been reading the holy book extensively." He straightened his shoulders. "We soon found that living such lavish lives while others struggled to survive was nothing short of sinful. Upon realizing this we thought it best to leave our riches behind and wander the land as missionaries."

"If that's true why then did you not tell me?"

"You killed our father before our very eyes. Not to mention the carriage driver just now." Val gestured at the pool of blood staining the marble steps. "What makes you think we'd trust you, your majesty?"

"I can very well have you killed right here right now. Watch your tongue!"

"We are protected by Elnes." He cut him off. "We have a connection with him so strong that upon killing us we will not hesitate to tell him of the blood you spilt in his name beyond ours. Do you think he'll continue blessing you thereafter?"

Father Orandi instantly swept down, whispering into the emperor's ear while openly glaring at the royal siblings.

Knowing full well what he was whispering, Salome spoke up: "If he's telling you to lock us up inside a church you may as well forget it."

The moment he said this the priest fell silent, straightening instantly as the emperor's frown deepened.

"Elnes has commanded us to spread his holy words across the land." She gave the priest a leveled look. "Do you want to go against the will of god?"

"We simply want to be missionaries and honor the family name." Val chimed in. "Is that such a bad thing, your majesty?"

After a long moment of silence, the emperor let out a tired sigh. "Very well. You two may leave. Release them."

He then watched as the knights flanking either sibling withdrew their daggers and helped them stand before guiding them out of the throne room and well past the open double doors. Once the doors clicked shut he gestured at a lone figure hiding within the shadows.

He had been quietly watching the scene from the start, unsure as to why the emperor would require the empire's stealthiest assassin for a family quarrel.

His dark cloak fluttered lightly over his ankles as his boots struck the floor. His features were well hidden beneath the cloak as he then stood before the emperor, not bothering to kneel before him.

"I will need you to follow them." Said the emperor. "You may kill them once they're well and far from this side of the empire."

"You must present us with their heads as proof." Added the second priest, Father Wells.

With a curt nod, the assassin then turned on his heel and disappeared.


	7. —Magicians & Witches—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Strong Language
> 
> A/N:  
>  Before you proceed just know this is a work of fiction and these are all fictional characters. Their opinions are not my own. Also, I deeply respect witches/witchcraft practitioners.

Ever since Erebus destroyed what had once been Aelly's only home (as well as all of her belongings) Haravac did not waste any time in convincing the two of them into following him. He claimed that the longer they stayed put the more danger they'll be in given how the entire empire saw the light beam strike her wrist.

"Why would anyone care anyway?" She had asked as he examined her wrist. "I mean... why?"

"You're amazing at vocalizing questions..."

"Drop the sarcasm."

He fought to hold back an eye roll as he then went on to explain: "Even if that guy really is the divine savior I'm afraid you still hold value as someone who drew attention from the heavens."

"Oh." Her eyes widened. "I'm going to become a nun aren't I?"

"What?" He gave her a look. "Gods no! You'll just be burned alive by the paladins! Calm down!" 

She rolled her eyes at him. "Why would the paladins try to kill me?"

"Try? Try?! They wouldn't have to try they'd be over and done with you in a sec—"

"They've tried." She smirked at a not so far memory. "Twice."

"Twice?"

She nodded, listing off her fingers with her free hand: "Once for escaping successfully, killing one or two guards in the process. The second time was for attempting to assasinate father Orandi."

"How did they fail?"

"They were looking for a woman wearing a dress and flowing long locks."

He gave her drab outfit a once-over and nodded to himself. "Oh."

"Yeah, and you know," she jabbed her hand into her pants. "Pockets!" 

"Alright." He let go of her hand as he then showed her a silver coin, flipping it as he spoke. "There are two sides to a coin, you know? On the one side we've got our fan favorite, Elnes, god of peace. On the other," he pocketed the coin, "we've got the lesser known Ilema, goddes of war."

She and Erebus exchanged a look before she went on to ask: "What does that have to do with anything?" 

"You don't have the mark of Elnes." He said. "That's Ilema's mark of power. If the church were to find out about said mark... Well...."

Sighing, Aelly shrugged a shoulder. She wasn't one to care about her own well-being let alone that of a random infant dragon-chimera-whatever. However she didn't have any other option but to follow Haravac, what with her no longer having a home anymore. She would've followed him even if he didn't bother to explain anything. She figured that if he didn't become useful any time soon then she may as well feed him to Erebus; it'd be a sweet full circle given how Haravac is the main reason Erebus was fully able to burn her entire fucking bridge down. No, she will not think of her involvement as well. 

And so the three of them traveled, making their way out of the south east and its frazzled citizens and to the south west. Their travels lasted a month in which they often found themselves stealing food here and there, disappearing way before any of the merchants could bother to notice. Throughout it all, Aelly found it absolutely incredible just how much food Haravac could eat at once. His eating habits were so monstrous she soon found herself unable to fully digest her food while he ate in her line of sight. As for Erebus, once he mastered his fire breathing (at the expense of an entire acre of wood) he went on to fly overhead, burning any birds he'd encounter only to then eat them midair. The only indication Aelly and Haravac got that he was eating were the falling bones and charred feathers that would occasionally graze their cheeks. 

By the time they reached Haravac's intended destination Erebus had grown so much he now reached Aelly's chest (that is without counting his antlers which reached the crest of her skull). By then, mere pigeons and mice weren't enough to satisfy his growing stomach. If anything, he'd get hungry enough to eat a whole horse.

Luckily for them, the southwestern side of the empire consisted of farmland and an ample supply of cattle. Neither Aelly nor Haravac (who she now christened Harry within sixteen hours of meeting him) tried to stop the starving creature as it flew past them, making its way directly for a black cow who didn't see him coming. Within moments he had tossed the cow on its side. Giving it no time to react, he dislocated its neck with his jaws before proceeding to devour its entrails while the other cows ran about in an attempt to escape. Unfortunately for them they happened to corralled in.

Sunlight filtered through the dense graying clouds as Aelly and Harry went on walking down the dirt path, fully ignoring the chaos Erebus had created to their left. A single farm house resided to the left (one can only figure the people living there owned the cattle Erebus was terrorizing) while a whole cornfield swayed to and fro at the right side of the road. A few trees poked up from the hills here and there, making the land seem vast and infinite.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"So you're finally asking." He eyed a tree resting atop a hill to the left.

"Yes. I am."

"We're going to visit an old friend of mine."

"I thought mages didn't have friends in the empire." 

"We've been friends since before the emperor existed, and besides," he looked at her, smiling faintly. "Some friendships defy logic sometimes."

"If that's your attempt at sounding wise I suggest you stop. Indefinitely." 

He frowned. "Well it sounded good in my head."

A shadow briefly passed over them, making them look overhead instinctively only to watch Erebus fly well past them. The bloody remains of the cow gushed from between his teeth, which according to his flaring nostrils, bothered him. Once he landed twenty feet ahead, he proceeded to poke at his teeth with a claw. 

"Sometimes I wonder what he'd made of." Harry muttered. "He seems more... learned than the average aristocrat."

She shrugged a shoulder while massaging the back of her neck. "His appetite's gotten bigger lately."

"Which is why we're paying my friend a visit. She ought to know how to deal with this kind of nonsense."

"I thought you were a dragon expert."

"I am. But that's a chimera right there and I don't do potions."

"You don't?" She gave him a look. "But magicians usually do that kind of stuff, no?"

"No we don't."

She watched as he then made his way past her and raced toward the tree he'd been eyeing earlier. "Then how do y'all do magic then?"

"For wizards magic is innate and therein mastered via extensive study and practice, none of which requires bubbly cauldrons and fuck all." He began to climb the tree. "Witches—ugh—Witches however.... they draw their power from external forces such as a higher power or whatever. So.... shit. So, they must learn ways in which they can both summon and control powers that don't belong to them in the first place."

She stopped walking once she reached Erebus and continued to observe him as he then began to balance himself atop a tree branch. 

"You seem a bit critical of the witches."

He began to bounce, making sure his movements became more frantic as the branch began to crack against his weight. ".... I spent fifty years learning to master my own abilities for them to just go about dropping shit in a bowl." He let out a breath. "That's all."

Erebus finished licking his teeth clean before joining Aelly in watching their friend make a fool of himself for no reason. 

"And yet this mysterious friend of yours is a witch?" Asked Aelly.

"I did say some friendships defy logic sometimes."

"By the way.... I've been meaning to ask, but what happened to you talking to trees?"

As if in response, the branch snapped taking Harry down with it. She would've raced on over had he not sat up almost instantly looking wild as ever as he then used the branch as a walking stick.

"Well?"

"Would you tear off your limbs for me if I asked you to?"

"No?"

"Neither would that bitch." 

Erebus looked at her with concern in his eyes. Concern for the hairy, toga wearing, dragon expert, hobo who talks to trees and calls them bitches. 

"I know..." she muttered. "But he's entertaining."

Erebus nodded in agreement and with her waited for Harry to catch up to them.


	8. —Sad Incantations—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> in case anyone was wondering: the empires are named after mighty mythical creatures (i.e Leviathan = Levianon, Basilisk=Basilian). Also, I don't know shit about politics so don't be too surprised later on.

Past the South Eastern boarder of the Levianon empire, that's where a nation of witches and magicians alike resided. They all lived within an empire of their own making. This empire, though well hidden within dense wood and protected by hostile territorial creatures, sported an absurdly humongous palace that put Levianon in well deserved shame. Having once been a nation of myth and legend they now found themselves burdened with the ignorant fear emanating from the Levianese people. It would be but a matter of time before they once again declared war on them.

They sure loved war in spite of being an empire protected by a god of peace.

Still, it's not like they didn't plan for such an event. Centuries ago they widened their horizons, growing further in numbers, perfecting their magic until, finally, finally they could wield offensive magic. They weren't like their weak ancestors who's main focus were domestic spells centered around cooking, cleaning, healing scrapes... Now if need be they could kill an enemy with a mere snap of the fingers. 

Levianon, a nation of so called peace, no longer held the upper hand. Rather, the once concealed kingdom which later on flourished into a full fledged empire had become the stuff of Levianon's nightmares. Though the Levianon empire dubbed them the Lost Kingdom they themselves had already named what had once been refuge and what had later on become a home worth protecting: Basilian 

And so, the Emperor of the Basilian empire found himself leaning against his room's window sill, arms crossed. His green and gold silk robes covered his nude body as he stared out at the now empty decrepit tower from which his former mentor had escaped. 

Unlike his mentor, he had allowed himself to age fully allowing nature to take its course; he wasn't vain like Haravac had always been. He also wasn't as short sighted either which in turn became Haravac's downfall. Afterwards upon seeing that the empire he had helped flourish held nothing but peace and prosperity, he saw no point in keeping a youthful front, allowing his people to see him as someone who didn't use his gifts pointlessly. 

Moving away from the open window he walked on over to his mirror which had been covered up in blankets for who knows how long. He saw little to no point in watching himself become as old as time itself. But times change and so, he reached out and snatched the covers away forcing himself to see what he had become. 

His musculature had deflated, replacing itself with bone and hanging skin. His once vascular hands and arms looked like bruised skeletal twigs. He had once been at an imposing height of one hundred and ninety-four centimeters, over the years and with age he had lost about five inches. Still all things considered, his stature was pretty imposing regardless of the lost inches. His constant lack of motivation was the primary reason his white hair had grown so long it had to be tied back by servants. Not to mention the beard that reached his hips, so long and scraggly it had to be tied as well or else it would tangle with his knee-caps. Were it not for his faithful servants he wouldn't have bothered to comb a single strand, let alone bathed or washed his teeth, maintaining their white sparkle.

He really looked like a wise old man worthy of trust.

Sighing, he removed his spectacles and tossed them onto the small table beside the mirror. He then gathered a pair of scissors and without a moment's hesitation (save for when he observed the severity of his shaking hand before proceeding) he cut his beard as well as his long mane, leaving it long enough to poke at his neck. He thereafter went on and shaved his face, as slowly as he could, stalling long enough to exasperate even himself. Once that was all said and done he moved away from the mirror, closed the shutters, and locked his chambers, keeping anyone from seeing what he was about to do. Stalling once again.

His heart felt as if it had dropped down to his twisting gut as he then finally began to recite the incantation, keeping his palms aimed skyward as his eyes rolled up into his eyelids. The incantation required but five simple lines in Time's tongue and its effects took but five seconds to flourish. Still, something within him dreaded this spell. He dreaded what enacting such a spell meant: an end to a seemingly infinite period of peace for the Basilians; yet another era of war with a twisted empire; bloodshed, loss, millions of grieving families.

But it had to be done and so it was. 

His once lost muscular body resurfaced along with his stature. He hadn't realized how hard it had become to breath up until his lungs instinctively filled themselves up with air as his once snow white hair recovered both the dark red tint it had lost long ago as well as its volume. His once sagging neck and jawline now appeared sharp and smooth as each and every single one of his wrinkles left him along with every extra inch of skin that accompanied them. 

His dark hazel eyes closed, allowing his dark lashes to form small crescent moons over his cheekbones as he then turned to face the mirror. With a wave of his hand every candle in the room lit up revealing his new youthful countenance.

His pale features no longer appeared sickly but rather, firm; as if he were made of the finest china. Pink lips and rosy cheeks gave away the fact that he wasn't as dead as he felt internally. His dark red hair was as wavy as it had been when he was a youth. Pushing it away from his forehead he caught a glimpse of his dark brows resting atop hooded hazel eyes. High cheekbones, hollow cheeks, and a square jaw sharp enough to slice paper. He had forgotten how handsome he had once been... is.

His robes clung to his frame as if for dear life. Or so they did before he removed them and changed into a pair of dark pantaloons and brown boots. He then donned on a white shirt and atop it a dark green coat with golden embroidery and brass buttons. 

He then took a hold of the black powder he had carefully hidden beneath his desk and observed it for a moment too long. This special powder, which glowed golden whenever the light struck it right was not a mere ornamentation. Only those who knew true hurt and grief were allowed to wear it before others. Otherwise, the powder itself would burn off their eyes, allowing any onlookers to see the wearer's hypocrisy giving them ample reason to be ostracized. Among magicians and witches alike, this powder was not only a symbol of grief but also of war.

He had once worn the powder when he declared war on his mentor and his allies. He had worn the powder when burying family after family during the great slaughter. He had worn the powder when creating dark magic, magic used to hurt innocent creatures in the name of knowledge. He had once worn the powder when he was finally able to return the dead soldiers to their families (albeit his actions were rushed and appeared to be more hostile than kind to any outsider looking in). He wore it once when his only daughter was stolen from him, never to be seen again. And now, now he wore the powder before any future grief could catch up to him. He knew he'd be forced to kill thousands, expected it even. There's no way he wouldn't be caught unprepared this time.

Taking a deep breath he dipped two fingers into the flat glass container and closed his eyes, smearing the dust over them. A breath left his lips as he then drew his hand away and opened his eyes.

Staring at his dirtied fingers he found himself mumbling:

"I hope I'm wrong."


	9. —Odd Makeups—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> Most of the chapters are going to have strong language from here on out so I won't be posting warnings for cuss words... it'd be a bit pointless. So for those of you who aren't too fond of foul language I suggest you go read something else. I promise you there are better written cuss-less books on here. Also, unless you're eighteen and above, I suggest you go read something else. Bye.

They currently found themselves standing before a well maintained manor with stained glass depicting what appeared to be different types of flowers. The walls appeared to be made of alabaster stone, the roof was covered with weathered dark green shingles. Flower beds lined up at either side of the dirt road leading to the manor as several trees attempted to keep the building out of sight only to fail miserably. Still, all in all it appeared to be inhabited by an individual with deep sensibilities.

"Listen motherfucker, do you think I'm going to help you after all the stupid shit you said about my kind?"

"You're not a different species Elenora."

"Way to zero in on irrelevant shit Haravac."

Aelly and Erebus stood awkwardly by the door, leaning against the round columns that flanked it as they watched Harry argue with his friend. Surprisingly enough, the elderly woman held little to no polite mannerisms and her tongue seemed to be worse off than a sailor's. 

She may as well have been a head shorter than Aelly however her bad posture, bent further south over the years, made her appear much shorter. It was as if gravity itself held a grudge against her entire body for it dragged her skin south, forcing the tip of her nose and earlobes to aim south as her thin white hair attempted to touch her knees, covering her whole body in the process. At this point in her old age, she held no eyebrows to redeem her icy blue eyes and her once strong arms appeared to be no stronger than twigs. With her every flamboyant gesture, the skin hanging on the underside of her arms would flap about as dozens of rings glittered in the dim sunlight, punctuating her angry sentences one by one. 

All the while they bickered, Aelly found herself wondering just how the old witch even heard Harry talking smack about witches. They had been two miles away from her home after all. But then again, she considered, she knew just as much about witches as she did about magicians. 

"How dare you diminish witchcraft as some easy go lucky fuck-all activity?!" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Were it not for us witches you wouldn't be who you are right now!"

He smiled at her comment. "That's why I kept telling you to mind your business."

"What?"

"Even after five hundred years you're as nosy as ever." He stared down at her, holding his torn up branch behind him. "What makes you think I wouldn't know you'd be listening in on my conversation?"

She wasn't budging: "I demand an apology!"

"I won't apologize for tricking you," he grinned. "It's the least you deserve for invading my privacy."

That gave her pause. ".... You didn't mean what you said then?"

"Not one bit." He stole a glance at Erebus before turning his attention back to her. "Now, I have something interesting to show you. Would you like to dabble?"

"Only if you restore me." She said. "The immortality potion wore off because of that stupid light beam."

"Oh my! How did you survive?"

"It didn't wear off completely. It just took away my youthful glow."

"But can't you just recreate the potion and—"

"I've done it plenty of times but I remain the same."

"Very well," he took a step back. "I will reverse you only if you examine this chimera for me first."

Upon hearing this, the old witch peered out the doorway, gripping the threshold with her spindly fingers as she then drew out a pair of ridiculously thick spectacles over her eyes, blinking. 

Aelly offered her a friendly wave while Erebus cowered behind her, staring up the old woman through guarded eyes. Both Harry and Aelly didn't know if Erebus meant to use Aelly as a shield of if he meant to spring up from behind and attack. Either way Elenora didn't care at all.

She made her way quietly past Harry, lightly pushing him away until he stumbled down a step before regaining his balance. He cast her a shocked look but didn't say anything as he then watched her kneel down beside Aelly, staring intently at the frightened creature cowering at her feet.

"Where did you find her?"

"Her?" Aelly looked at Harry who appeared to be just as confused. "No, that's a he—"

"I am not sure why people typically assume dragons to be male, but this one here is a girl."

She cast Harry an accusatory look. "I thought you were a dragon expert."

"Well excuse me for not getting a doctorate in lizard genitalia!" 

"Every time he calls himself an expert in anything," Elenora reached out her hand to Erebus. "do know he's full of shit."

Appearing to understand the comment, Erebus let out what sounded like a laugh causing Harry and Elenora to stare at her wide-eyed.

"What?" Aelly's eyes shifted from the two magic users to her chimera. "Isn't that normal for dragons?"

"Yes. For dragons it is." Harry said approaching them before kneeling down beside his friend. "But not chimeras. Never chimeras."

A shiver ran down Elenora's spine. "Something's very wrong here."

Harry remained silent, for once he had nothing to say as they both stared intently at the chimera until she eventually became so unnerved she attempted to fly away from them. However, what the poor infant didn't count on was Aelly holding her back mid flight by the tail. This further startled the creature to the point of pure panic. She began to let out what resembled human screams, clawing desperately at whatever was in sight before Harry jumped to. his feet and with one swift swing of his branch, knocked her out cold. 

Before Erebus could fully recover, Aelly and Elenora jumped on her back, pinning her down as Harry quickly tied her snout shut.

"I'm sorry girly," he said. "We're not the bad guys. We're not going to hurt you."

The last thing Erebus saw were three blurry figure hovering over her, mumbling reassuring promises the held no value. An image she had gotten used to. And so, though terrified, she tried to force herself to dream as unconsciousness pulled at her 

A dream in which her father saved her.


	10. —Will Power Will Flow—

"The body of a dragon, the wings and claws of a hawk (I believe), the antlers of what appears to be an antelope, and finally, the brain and eyes of a human child."

"What were they thinking?" Elenora covered her mouth, eyes wide as she watched Aelly consoling the whimpering creature, stroking its head as she herself fought to keep a straight face.

Harry, who had just listed off the genetic makeup of the chimera gestured at the lavender curtains, drawing them together, instantly shielding the both of them from the sight.

Aelly had refused to leave Erebus' side while he and his friend examined her. She then had opted to remain outside while he and Elenora discussed what to do about the creature. Initially he sought out a hunger dampening potion from his friend. Never in his wildest imaginings did he think the creature was but a human child trapped inside an animal. Not until he heard her laugh and scream.

Sure, he was sadistic, vain, and at times murderous but even he knew better than to degrade human life in such an evil fashion. Hadn't even considered it. Sure, he practically invented necromancy however that was it's own issue and completely separate from this bullshit.

He sat down on a blue cushioned seat, next to his shocked friend as his mind wandered, constantly imagining ways in which those crazy dark wizards could have successfully managed to disrupt the two main sacred rules: Life and nature. Rules which both Ilema and Elnes had agreed upon, and they never agreed on anything.

To take away the common life of an innocent creature, take away it's original nature, and morph it into something sinister.... It was a sin with an eternal payback. A sin which dark wizards had no trouble engaging in, in an attempt to show Elnes just how much better they were at creating creatures worth existing. However.... to do this to a fellow human being? They had never expressed interest in their own species before so why now?

"I don't remember life being this intriguing." He said finally.

"Had I known I'd live to see such a thing I would have prepared tea in advance."

He let out a low chuckle. "I would have dressed for the occasion."

"Had we looked the part we would've made the situation a whole awful lot more dramatic." She grinned at him. "Wouldn't we, Harry?"

"Oh I can see it now," he propped his feet upon the wooden tea table before him. "Me descending from the skies wearing the finest of cloths, wielding the mother of all staffs, and you my dear, opening the door wearing your favorite red dress and ruby slippers."

"And my black stockings, don't forget dear."

"Ah yes. Your black stockings. I remember the village boys all wanted to see those."

She smiled remembering. "And then Arthur had them crucified at the town square because of your stupid castle."

"I never thought the man had such a fragile ego. Can you blame me for wanting to live well?"

"No I cannot." She sighed, leaning back into her seat. "We were so young then... Zakaria though, tough cookie that one."

He grinned, remembering his former pupil. "So what are we going to do about that kid?"

"We can return her to her human state you and I."

He nodded resting letting his head fall back. "That would ruin the fun."

"It would, wouldn't it?"

"To return a chimera to its former state... can we even do it?"

"Sweetheart you know well and good that we can."

He grinned, eyes closed. "But do we have the willpower?"

She sighed. "Well I do."

"You've gotten soft, Elenora."

"And you're as cold as ever Haravac."

"I remember the days in which you happily led lives to absolute ruin." He opened his eyes, staring up at the cream colored ceiling. "People slit their own throats because of you."

After a the silence between them grew he turned to look at her and saw her staring down at her knees, her hair curtained her features. "I am not the same woman I was then."

He examined her for a moment before proceeding to recite an incantation under his breath. His voice was so low and the archaic language was so dead that its ghost blended itself with the wind that then proceeded to engulf the aged woman sitting beside him. She startled and cast him a wide eyed look as he continued to recite the incantation.

Once he was done with the reversal spell, the decrepit old hag sitting beside him had been replaced by a beauty he had missed seeing.

Her hair darkened to gray and its volume shifted, becoming fuller and smoother in the process before she quietly moved it over her left shoulder though a stray strand remained, poking at a curve between her shoulder and neck. Her wrinkles disappeared, leaving behind smooth creamy skin all over allowing for a pink tint to show over her cheeks and lips. A pair of gently arched brows rested atop icy blues that had seen one too many horror.

He hadn't noticed previously due to his lack of focus as well as how much her hair covered her front. But she was wearing a peach colored dress with golden embroidery at the vest as well as the skirt's hem. Her sleeves covered her tattooed arms well enough that anyone who bothered looking at her for the very first time would have a hard time believing that such an angelic looking woman sported death runes on her person.

"I am glad."

She gave him a dimpled smile. "What about you? Are you the same man you once were?"

"I don't know." He grinned, standing up. "But this conversation is getting very boring. What say you we fuck around and fix that child?"

"So now you want to play good?"

He offered her his hand. "I don't think it's possible for us to return her to her former glory but we can alleviate that with a nature soothing spell and a willpower brew."

"Willpower brew?" She quirked a brow. "Get your terminology right. It's Will-Flow brew!"

"I'm not a witch so I don't care." He made his way up the stairs. "Now, I'll wash up so call me if you need me."

"Way to feel at home." She grumbled before making her way to the kitchen, ready to concoct the mother of all complicated brews.

Gods above, even Ilema scorned the eye-watering recipe.


	11. —Divide & Conquer—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Murder/death

Two seemingly lonely travelers made their way down a dirt path, compass and map in hand and little to no other belongings hanging off their back. They had traversed for what felt like years (though in reality it had but been a month) to the south-east, knowing full well the light beam had shone from somewhere along that direction. 

Salome fully admired the silent scenery, what with the swaying trees at either side of the road and the occasional bird song welcoming them as they breached into a small town. The sky was clear of cloud and sun leaving enough rooms for the occasional bird to fly freely without worry. Beyond the horizon, at the crest of the hill on which the road was leading them to, she could see the roofs and chimneys that made up the town. On occasion she thought she could hear a merchant or two shouting discount prices as well as how rare their products were. Either way, she liked how... unrestrained. Yes. She liked how unrestrained it all was.

Currently they had changed into much more modest clothing. Salome went on to braid her hair tightly before wrapping it up in a neat golden bun before donning on a maroon colored dress, forgoing the crinoline. Instead, she wore black pantaloons and brown leather shoes underneath her skirts in case she ever found herself in need of a quick run. After all, both her and Val knew their grandfather so well it went without even saying that he'd definitely try to have them killed once they were well and far from the central palace. 

As for Val, well he had never been a simple soul. He found himself handsome and thought it a waste to dress without that in mind. So, he went for black pantaloons and a white cotton shirt beneath a dark gray buttoned vest which served not only to catch the wandering eye but to conceal his daggers and chocking wires. Though he forwent his usual extravagant fashion choices he'd still rather die than have anyone believe him a commoner. 

"Someone's following us."

If his sudden announcement caught her off guard she didn't show it. "He's not very stealthy is he?"

"How much do you think the fool weights?" Val's face remained as blank as hers.

She paused, focusing on the man hiding among the trees to her left. "Well... I'd say about two hundred and forty pounds?"

He adjusted his hair tie and brushed a few lose strands from his temple. "He's a very good climber too. I'd say he's tall, nimble, and a hard kill."

"His movements are slowed at times," Salome shot back. "He doesn't seem to be out practiced so I'd say he's old enough to be a grandfather."

"Maybe our youth could best him?"

"You two overestimate yourselves."

At the sound of his voice both siblings stopped walking.

"Dagger or wire?"

"Wire." Salome answered.

Upon turning around they saw a man a head shorter than the both of them. Not only that but he was stout and far from old age what with his middle aged features. He sported a scar which elongated the right side of his mouth as a pair of golden rings dangled from his ears. He cast aside his dark cloak, revealing that he wore a dark red vest atop a yellowing shirt and faded gray pantaloons along with leather boots. A sword clung to his right hip as a pair of daggers clung from the brown leather strap that held his quiver in place over his back. In one hand he held his bow, appearing to use it as a walking stick of sorts.

"Well this is a surprise..." Val muttered.

In spite of his short stature the man appeared to be looking down on them. "Are you sure that's a good choice princess?"

She gave no indication of having heard him as Val handed her the thin garrote wire.

"Your weapons are meant for short distances," he observed Val's daggers. "Do you have good aim?"

"Perfect aim."

He raised his bushy brows appearing surprised by his confidence. 

"How about you old man?" Salome gestured at the bow in his hand. "You only have so many arrows."

He grinned at her comment, revealing yellow teeth as his eyes crinkled at the sides. "I make do your highness."

Once the words left his mouth all pleasantries were off the table. 

The two fully expected him to run at them head on however he made a mad dash for the trees to his right, immediately shielding himself from their sight. They faltered for a moment too long, trying to figure out his next move, when an arrow came flying in overhead from among the trees. Salome had no chance to react as she hadn't detected the incoming arrow. Val however, had heard it's sharp tip tearing at the wind bringing forth a soft whistle tune that seemed to call out to his sister. He quickly knocked it off course with his dagger before tossing it in the direction the arrow had come from. 

Much to his misfortune his dagger struck a random tree, empty of attackers. Just as bad, he failed to move in time to save his sister who upon being struck tried to fight death, gripping at her brother's sleeves as she then fell on her knees. Startled he turned around and saw his sister fall face first at his feet. One arrow stuck out from the center of her scalp. Two more had latched themselves onto her back. 

The grief was instant and fiery, burning through whatever power of will he had to protect himself as he fell to his knees, pulling out the arrows from her. He couldn't cry or scream or beg to Elnes above to grant her a second chance at life. His mind had gone blank as he cradled his bleeding sister in his arms.

His entire world had gone silent.


	12. —War & Mercy—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> For context: if you read the prologue you'll find that four hundred or so years ago the wizard kingdom (now empire) returned the dead bodies of Levianon soldiers during a rainy day. They were twenty thousand in total and came raining down from the sky. Ever since, the people of the Levianon kingdom refuse to be caught in the rain as they associate it with bad omens as well as Ilema, goddess of war.

"Ilema, goddess of everything Elnes hates, I pray to you." He hissed, clutching his sister in his arms still. "I have never prayed to you before. I am no one to you. But do know I will forever serve you if you grant me the ability to avenge my sister. I ask you to allow me to destroy them all. I will bathe in their blood and build you an altar greater even then that of Elnes. But only if you allow me to destroy Levianon." 

As he spoke the wind began to change all throughout the south east, startling even the townspeople a mile ahead as the trees began sway more violently than before as petrichor began to rise from the soil. The sky appeared to be promptly covered in clouds, giving a much more direct warning to the people that rain was incoming allowing them enough time to rush home and pray to Elnes. 

A ways above the ground, to the left side of the road and standing atop a tree branch, the assassin found himself aiming his bow and arrow at Val's hunched back. Wanting to end his job quickly and hide from the rain, from Ilema's sight. With this in mind, he quickly released his arrow, aiming it at Val's head fully knowing that it'd strike home.

That did not happen.

Salome's hand shot up, startling Val as she quickly caught the arrow in her hand, stopping it mid-flight.

Val watched her stand, leaving him alone on the ground as rain began to descend from the heavens. She appeared to stare directly at a tree to the left before pointing the arrow at it.

"Come on down Earnest Clearwater."

Her voice was like thunder: strong, striking, and calm. It was authoritative enough to make the assassin clamber down as fast as he could before rushing to her. Kneeling upon being in her sight.

"Stand, Valren Elneva Jackson." 

He got to his feet, watching her wide eyed as she stood calmly beneath the ongoing rain and thunder. Never in his life had his sister talked to him like that.

"Who are you?"

"I am the one you called out to."

His eyes widened as the assassin began to cry awaiting his retribution.

"I am more than what everyone thinks." She continued, reaching out to the frightened man, holding his trembling hand in her steady ones. "Before war comes diplomacy crafted by human dogma. Just as well, I am the mercy that comes before the kill."

"I am sorry!" Cried Earnest. "This was going to be my last! I don't like killing people but I had to feed my family!"

She released his hand. "Do not lie. Your family left you long ago. You do this only to feed yourself."

He cried into his hands as she stared down at him.

"There is only one way in which you can redeem yourself." She went on before aiming a finger at Val. "You must hone his skills to perfection; teach him to be your better. Should you fail to do so I will come forth and devour your soul."

"I will! I will!"

"What?!" Val rushed on over. "No! He killed my sister!"

"Be prepared to forgive him then." She gave him a leveled look. "For I have returned her to you."

As she finished speaking her once blonde hair and brows darkened to a dark brown hue as her eyes lost their color becoming pitch black in the process. Once the change was complete the rain came to a full stop and the skies cleared as the breeze slowed to a calm speed allowing the trees to recuperate. She then fell into his arms.

Upon inspecting her Val found that she no longer held any deadly wounds. Her heart was beating once again.


	13. —A Cold Heart—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Remember how I said I know very little about politics and such? Well, keep that in mind throughout this chapter. I tried my best to use what little knowledge I have on the matter to make up for my ignorance.

A great portion of Levianon's south-west was ruled over by Duke Elias, the only living descendant of famed scholar Frederick Elias. Unlike his predecessor, the duke possessed no great intellect and little respect amongst the nobility which in turn is why he was given such a great piece of land: as vast and empty as the moon. Only but a handful of people lived there, what was it? Five hundred at most? There was more cattle and farmland than actual people. This in turn left him stressed for the empire always demanded his citizens' taxes to average out beyond their means. Means only capable of being reached had the south-west been bursting at the seams with people. He tried, constantly tried, to argue the unreasonable taxes with the treasurer, with the church, and even with the emperor himself but nobody cared about such a small populace living in the farthest part of the empire. As a result, he himself had to constantly empty his pockets in order to make ends meet.

Or so was the case up until Elenora knocked on his door. 

She came to his residence without lies. She told him she was a witch and if he granted her a lavish lifestyle she'd help him solve his problems. 

Frederick Elias the third may not have been a scholar like his great grandfather however he was a just man. A just man who'd go bankrupt if he didn't do anything fast. Bankruptcy as it turns out has a way of making one desperate. So, he asked her to prove herself, to show him just how useful she'd be to the south-west and its taxation issues.

"Do not tax the people here." She had grinned, tossing a gray lock over her shoulder. "Only me."

"But madam!" He looked at her raggedy state as well as the torn up bag she held over her back. "I'm afraid you'd have to live three lifetimes in order to pay off half that amount alone!"

In spite of her ragged state the witch shined on him the brightest most self-assured smile he'd ever seen. Not even the emperor himself could smile like that. That was a smile granted only to those who fully trusted themselves.

"I have my ways, my lord."

He met her confident statement with dumbfounded silence.

"I want a manor with lots of flowers and trees," she went on. "Like a tiny forest! I want pretty windows, like church windows. And lots of expensive dresses and jewelry. Oh! No staff, no maids, no carriages. I take care of myself beyond that."

"But how are you going to pay?"

"I'll show you on tax day." She grinned before lifting a finger. "And if you behave I'll add interest."

It had been sixty years since that fateful day and the farmers residing on the south-west couldn't be happier. Thanks to Elenora not only were they exempt from paying taxes but they no longer had to worry about any sort of pestilence or drought let alone any demonic illnesses. She was like an angel sent from heaven and so, in spite of knowing her to be a witch not one of the citizens dared to snitch her out.

And now on tax day, the duke had sent out one of his collectors to her residence. His name was Robin Voltaire, aged twenty three. Having dealt with the witch for the past fifteen years he knew better than to expect normal welcomes from her. One too many times he'd witnessed her burning down her entire manor down out of pure boredom. Miraculously though, her house would go back to normal by the next morning. He once witnessed her feeding a stray calf a green colored concoction which in turn gave the animal the ability to speak its mind. To this day, every morning farmers are tormented awake by the irritating creature and its condescending attitude. 

And now as he stepped closer to her home he saw yet another peculiar sight. A dragon the size of a human being was being pinned down by what appeared to be two men. It spewed fire all around to know avail as the two men continued hold it down, prying its mouth open as they did. Meanwhile the witch, Elenora, stood before the creature unfazed, gloved hand to her hip. With her other hand she held a pair of pincers which in turn held a beaker sporting a bubbling blue liquid, thicker than the thickest honey. 

"Keep moving like that, keep it up." She told the frightened dragon. "And I promise you this is going to burn straight through your esophagus."

"What's that?" Robin asked.

"The gullet." Answered one of the men holding the dragon down. 

"Alright enough distractions!" Elenora snapped. "Robin hold her down! Harry, get out of the way!"

Already used to her ordering him around, Robin rushed on over and held down the dragon just as Harry (the man who had answered his question earlier) moved away. In a matter of seconds he had overpowered the thrashing dragon forcing it still as he held it in a chokehold, straddling it in place.

Much to his surprise his companion snarled: "Be gentle you fuck, this a child!" 

He loosened his grip. "What?"

"Alright! One, two—" Before she could reach three Elenora poured the brew down the dragon's mouth while Harry went on to speak in tongues, forming an incantation so powerful that the wind around them began to kick up speed. 

In a matter of seconds the creature he was holding down began to glow, blinding both Robin and Aelly so much they accidentally let go of Erebus, falling on their backs in the process. 

One moment they were lying on their backs while a dragon roared mightily before them. The next, they were being helped up to their feet by the wind itself, pushing them up per Harry's command. And now they stood behind a little girl who was on her knees, fiercely rubbing her tears away with his tiny fists.

The child was unlike anything any of them had ever seen. 

She had horns and bird wings which were big enough to cover her entire backside. She sported an enourmous mass of curly black hair, golden skin, as well as high cheekbones and what appeared to be fangs. She appeared to be at about six years old and absolutely malnourished.

Before anyone could say anything, Aelly approached the child and knelt, poking her shoulder.

Startled the little girl spun around in a defensive pose, fangs and claws out, before stopping upon seeing who it was. She did not approach or retreat. She simply stared Aelly through wide teary eyes the color of gold. 

"Hey there Erebus." Aelly held out her hand. "Did it taste as awful as it smelled?"

Slowly the winged child nodded.

"I'm sorry about that kid." She began to shove off her shoulder straps. "We had to make you drink that for the magic spell to work."

When the child continued to stare, Aelly took that as a hint to continue explaining:

"We were trying to help you." She proceeded to unbutton her shirt before taking it off. "So you don't have to be a dragon all the time."

It was then that Erebus looked down at herself, her mouth gaping at the sight of her hands and feet. She noticed her curls, her belly, her entire body was that of a human once again. It had been so long since she had a human body of her own that she no longer remembered what she looked like. 

While she continued to marvel at herself, Aelly finished taking off her shirt and gently used it to cover her. Completely dismissing the two men watching her as she then scooped up the little girl in her arms before carrying her over into the manor. Elenor followed after the two talking up a storm about food and treats. 

"So what are you here for?"

Suddenly remembering Harry's presence Robin looked at him and saw what appeared to be a noble man.

He was tall and lean though not lanky. He was clean shaven and had short brown hair which had been thoroughly combed back and away from his angular face. He had deep set eyes the color of coal and a charming mouth which curled at the sides which could deceive anyone into thinking he was smiling. 

He wore a navy blue suit with silver buttons and chains, as wells as a silk cravat which was tucked into a gray vest. The dark blue coat clinging to his shoulders served to cover the majority of his outfit save for his buckled black leather boots. And in his right hand he held what appeared to be a wooden walking stick with a leather handle.

Oddly enough Robin was sure Harry hadn't been wearing such finery when he first laid eyes on him. 

"Very well?"

"Oh, yes! I uh—" Robin massaged his neck as he spoke: "I'm just a tax collector."

"Well I suppose I can take care of that. How much?"

When he told him the sum Harry's eyes widened so much his dark brows threatened to go past his hairline. 

"What? That's too much! What? Is she paying for the whole south-west?!"

When Robin gave him a small nod Harry's mouth fell open. 

"She apparently made a deal with the duke ruling this area..."

"Did she now? How....of her." 

"What?"

"Nothing. Here—" with a snap of his fingers a wooden cart bearing several chests filled with gold coins and rubies appeared beside Robin. "Take this and go. It should be enough to last you five generations."

Though he was amazed by the enormous quantity of money Robin still managed to pull himself together and rushed out of there as fast as he could. It wasn't long until he was gone leaving Harry by his lonesome. 

Or so he thought up until he turned around and found himself confronted by Aelly who was now wearing a new shirt.

He let out a gasp and clutched his chest. "Don't scare me like that!"

"I was going to call you over for dinner... you..." Incredulity marked her sharp features. "You.... you can materialize money with a snap of your fingers?"

"Yes." He shrugged a shoulder and began to walk past her, all the while wondering how she managed to sneak up on him. "Let's go, the others are wait—."

Before he could finish his sentence Aelly took a hold of him and in one swift move slammed him onto the ground. In the same move she jumped on him, straddling him, before punching his jaw so hard he almost lost consciousness. She then took a hold of his collar and pulled him to her as she snarled:

"We spent a whole month eating stolen scraps while you could just buy us food?!!!"

"Get your hands off me!!" With a single blast of power he had managed to send her flying several feet away from him. 

However that wasn't enough to dissuade her bloodlust. As he jumped to his feet he realized she had quickly recovered from the blast and was now running to him at full speed. Seeing no other way out he raised his staff and swung it at her knocking her off course, slamming her onto a tree so hard the sound her body made upon contact made him cringe.

Thinking her dead, Harry then proceeded to dust himself off and began to walk towards the manor. That is up until he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. Before he could react, a hand took a hold of his and pulled him down so hard his back snapped upon making contact with a knee moments before he got kicked aside. Though just as his body touched the ground he was pulled up by the throat before his back meet a tree trunk. 

"You stupid asshole!!" Aelly snarled, eyes lit up with absolute fury. "Look at her! Look at the state she's in!"

Coughing up a storm Harry's eyes followed the direction in which Aelly was pointing at. There he saw Erebus rushing out the front door toward the both of them, still wearing Aelly's old shirt. And for the first time he saw how skinny she was, how sunken in her eyes were. How hollow her cheeks appeared to be. How her arms appeared to be more skeletal than his had once been. The poor girl looked like she ate air and nothing else.

"That's all your fault!!"

For the first time in centuries, he felt guilty. "I didn't know she was a human child!"

"That's still a living being!! Animals are living beings!!" 

"I don't give a shit about anim—"

"What about me then?!!" She cut him off, slapping her chest. "I'm a person too! Did you forget?!! I was starving too and you let me starve!"

He gritted his teeth. It wasn't every day he was unable to talk his way out of his own sins. 

Aelly shoved at him one last time before stepping away grimacing. "And to think I was starting to think of you as a friend."

When Erebus reached them, Aelly didn't let her approach Harry and instead scooped her up in her arms and walked towards the manor once more. And as she glanced at him from over her shoulder she spat out:

"Get lost."


	14. —Mother's Return—

In a world with more than one god there is bound to be trouble. And so, the legend of the prophesied savior came to be thanks to an angry mischievous god who descended the heavens with the sole purpose of wrecking everything his brother had built. 

Very few people know this, all of which held extensive communication with the gods of old since youth. These people were commonly called Oracles, Fortune Tellers, and so on. Having had their bloodline blessed by the god of elements they all had the ability to see the near future and prevent future disasters. And at first, these people were great in number and held high positions within the empire. Or so was the case up until the rebel god revoked his gift, blinding them, leaving them with little to no way of knowing what was to come.

They had no way of seeing the Levianon empire's bloody future let alone its ban on magic users which in turn was the reason the paladins slaughtered hundreds upon thousands of suspected magicians and witches, guilty or not. However, during their indiscriminate slaughters, the Levianon paladins found that if frightened enough, even the most loyal of magic users could be pushed into eternal servitude to the church in exchange for their lives. In turn, this meant that while the grand majority of surviving magic users fled to the southeast an insignificant minority stayed behind, shackled to a church that served a merciful god.

And now, the last of the oracles stood before the throne, shackled and weeping. All around her all she could see were robed men and women and having been in such a position one too many times, she knew who was who based only on where they stood. 

To the far back, near the windows and doors, were at least thirteen paladins none of which were here to restrain her but rather to escort the twenty nuns standing at either side of the room. The nuns so happened to be in turn accompanying the four cardinals standing four steps ahead of them; the four cardinals surnamed: Frost, Elneser, Enalv, and Ikam, stood three feet behind the two priests who stood to the east and west end of the room. Those two stood at the last step of the dais, hands hidden within their bell shaped sleeves, their surnames being Orandi and Wells. As for the emperor himself, he sat on his throne both hands on its arms as he stared down at the weeping oracle.

"Is this one really the last of her kind?"

"She is, your majesty." Father Orandi answered. "We have traced her lineage since the very beginning of your rule."

"I see." Once more he observed the woman before him.

She looked nothing like how he'd expected a church slave to look. For one, she was dressed in the finest white silk and wore golden headpiece atop her curls. Golden bracelets and pendants, as well as earrings hung from her person, providing a stark contrast with her skin and black hair. Her eyes were a deep red color reminiscent of blood, a particular feature he had grown up seeing everywhere during his youth. Regardless of how hard he looked there was no telling just how old she was. The woman in spite of being a church owned slave looked to be richer than an empress and just as regal too.

However, her presentation only made sense to him if he considered the fact that she'd been washed and dressed by the nuns prior to presenting her to him. Everyone within the church knew how much he hated seeing impoverished fellows.

"Very well," he sighed. "Oracle tell me what you see."

She offered no answer and kept on weeping into her hands. Or so everyone thought up until her sobs began to resemble chuckles. The further everyone listened the more they realized that she wasn't weeping but rather laughing. The oracle was laughing hysterically to the point of tears.

"Why do you laugh?"

"....mother has arrived."

Not understanding her behavior, Arthur looked to the nuns, the cardinals, even the priests only to realize that they were just as puzzled as he was. Even the paladins appeared taken aback.

"Mother has restored my vision." She lifted her face casting him a mad grin. "I can see everything now."

"Who is mother?"

Upon hearing this question she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with one hand as her eyes widened so much her lashes threatened to touch her brows. "You forgot mother!"

"Oracle! I demand to know what that beam means!"

"Oh no," she shook her head. "You forgot mother and think she'll still bother with your worries?"

"If you do not answer my question properly I will behead you myself."

The threat appeared to sober her. "You wish to know about the beam?"

"Yes, blast it all!"

"Fear." 

He furrowed a brow and waited for her to elaborate, which she did:

"The divine light cast upon the earth from the heavens by a divine hand...." her hands raised up as if reaching for the heavens she spoke of. "Is not a sign or a divine message but the completion of a divine promise given out centuries ago by a god of old. A god who is not happy with your ignorance and neglect. One whose star will make you pay the price. Once the star stands nothing will be left standing. Not even your precious temple walls."

The old emperor rested his chin upon his fist, frowning as his fingers drummed against his throne's arm. "Who is this mother you speak of?"

"She is the only chance you have at defeating the star." The oracle continued before aiming a finger at Arthur. "Elnes has forsaken this nation the moment you sat on that throne. He has abandoned us due to your blasphemy but she has not. She has never given up on us. She wishes for us to defeat the star and remain standing taller than ever!"

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Ilema. Goddess of war and strategy. The very goddess you and your people have minimized into a monster. "

"What does she wish in return for her help?"

"Is it not obvious?" Her condescending tone allowed for the nuns and cardinals alike to openly glower at her. "She wishes to be revered and loved by the people she loves. She wishes to be as loved as Elnes is."

"I see..." he looked at the other people in the room and frowned. "What exactly is her plan?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

She then raised her hand and snapped her fingers.


	15. —Family Reunion—

Erebus found herself sitting in a very fine dining room with a full plate sitting before her. The white plate was outlined in silver and sported mashed potatoes soaked in gravy, buttered bread, a whole chunk of meat, salad, and even more meat. The child didn't bother using any utensils and swiftly tore through her plate. There was finery all around her but the child was too hungry to care, especially given how today was the one day she had eaten to her heart's content. 

She sat on a stack of pillows atop a cushioned wooden chair before an oval shaped wooden dining table which was safely covered by fine purple linens and white lace. A single white vase sat at the center of the table sporting heather, hydrangeas, and baby's breath for all to see. A single glass chandelier hung from the ceiling though it sported no candles but rather orbs of light bobbing within it, meticulously hidden so as to trick the common eye into believing that the light came from the very glass dripping from the chandelier. Lavender colored wallpaper lined the walls only to be briefly interrupted on occasion by random paintings and the occasional lamp. 

The wooden floors creaked as Aelly continued to walk back and forth only to occasionally glower at the windows behind Erebus. Of course, Elenora had noticed this and had thought it best to close the curtains however that didn't change much of anything. Aelly still glowered at the windows knowing full well that Haravac hadn't left as she'd told him to and had instead climbed up a tree and proceeded to take a nap. Even now, she had half a mind to storm back out and give him a piece of her mind. A very deadly piece anyway.

"What did he do?" Elenora asked finally.

Aelly stopped mid-stride and turned to look at the host who was quietly dining, slicing a piece of meat with a knife while pinning it down with a fork. She had swept her gray hair back and changed into looser clothing, this time a purple dress with short sleeves and white slippers. She looked refined, young, and nothing like the old foul tongued crone she'd met that very morning. She was still getting used to the fact that Haravac was capable of turning back time to such an extreme.

"You've known him the longest; has he always been so self-centered?"

"Not always." Elenora admitted, ignoring as Erebus swallowed a whole chunk of meat in one go. "There was a time my dear cousin was nothing but self-less in spite of his many.... fuck ups."

Ah, there was the foul mouthed crone she'd been missing. "You two are cousins?"

"Our family is not decided by blood but by rank." She cast her a conspiratorial glance. "I am his cousin because I am equal in strength and weaker in will. One would only be able to call themselves Harry's sibling if they were to be equally as strong, willful, and devious as he is."

Aelly made a face, scratching at the back of her head as she pulled out a chair, swung it about and straddled it, resting her forearms over its spine. "So none of y'all are related?"

"To us blood has little relevance." She stabbed at a piece of meat and drew it to her mouth. "It's all about power."

"Well... It sounds.... odd." Aelly sighed. "So what made Haravac so selfish?" 

The witch grinned as she finished chewing. "He and I were of the same rank, we considered each other siblings once and we were happy being overlooked by the rest of the family. There is happiness in simplicity, you know."

When Aelly nodded she continued. 

"Back then he was regarded as a simple creative mind and I was seen as merely a silver-tongue." She reached for her wine glass. "To them we were tiny, insignificant and we couldn't be happier for it."

"What changed?"

"We were loosing people precious to us left and right. At first we didn't understand how or even why, we were confused. I was scared but he was growing angrier by the day; our emotions were a bit aimless. It was then that I realized I didn't have the mettle he had." She took a sip and went on: "While I sought to move on peacefully, though living in fear for my life, Haravac sought out the murderers." She let out a breath. "You should've seen him then, he was absolutely rabid." 

Not knowing what to say, Aelly remained quiet. And so did Erebus who had just finished licking her plate clean. 

"He found the murderers in no time at all." Elenora continued. "When Haravac demanded justice none was given. And when he sought answers all he was given was a flimsy excuse that only served to enrage him further. It changed him completely... and so abruptly too. Overnight, he and I declared war and cut ourselves off from the family. That is how he became the very man you fought outside."

Aelly contemplated what she'd said for a moment before asking: "I understand why he'd declare war but you? Why would you do so as well?"

"When I heard the excuse they gave us I was blinded by rage. I no longer wanted to move on peacefully." She frowned. "It's taken me so long to let go of that bloodlust."

Aelly nodded, accepting her answer. "The reason I fought with him outside is because he let me and Erebus starve for a whole month during our travel here.... and he could have just made money out of thin air."

Aelly's words gave her pause. She almost dropped her fork and nearly knocked off her chair as she stood, looking at her wide eyed. "What the fuck did you just say? How do you know he can do that?!"

Aelly got to her feet as well, a puzzled look taking over her face. "Because I saw him. How else?"

Within seconds Elenora rushed out of the dining room, Aelly and Erebus in tail. The three of them practically ran outside only to burst through the door which Elenora popped open with a flick of her wrist. She stormed on, hiking up her dress as she ran down the front steps and made her way toward Haravac.

Haravac had been dozing off on a tree branch the last time they had bothered to look at him. But now, he stood in the middle of the dirt road leading to Elenora's house, tense, staff in hand.

"You fucking idiot!!" Elenora shouted. "The light beam removed all working magic throughout the empire!! The protective shield's down! How could you be so care....less..."

Slowly, and upon realizing that Harry wasn't alone, she came to a stop. Aelly and Erebus came to a stop behind her, staring at the stranger with as much intrigue as one could muster. 

Standing a few feet in front of Haravac was a man. He was tall, lean, and muscular, and (if the air around him were to be trusted) full of himself. He had golden hair, wavy and all the way down to his shoulders while a few braids at either side of his face allowed for his features to shine through. His honey colored eyes appeared to be sunken in, surrounded by the shadows of a thousand sleepless nights. And something about those eyes seemed to hold a cool quality no paladin Aelly had encountered ever had. Speaking of paladins, he wore paladin garb. He wore a black robe, held together by a red sash down the middle, as well as buckled leather shoes. Atop his broad shoulders rested a dark red cloak that reached all the way down to his ankles. Though he wore a hood atop his head, Aelly could still see a grand majority of his features. In spite of being outnumbered, four to one, this man held no qualms. Even though his face gave way to little to no expression, the very gleam of his eye told Aelly he wasn't someone she could take lightly.

"Hello little brother." His voice held a warmth his entire person seemed to lack. "I've missed you."

"Elnes." Harry didn't bother hiding his hostility. "May I advice you; next time you possess a body make sure the host is still alive. At the very least." 

He grinned then. "Ah! I keep forgetting your fanaticism of the dead."

"I am simply telling you to be hygienic."

"After being so long separated is this how you greet me?" Elnes lifted a brow. "By calling me dirty?"

"I have several things I'd love to call you but as you can see," he gestured at the women behind him. "we are in pleasant company."

It was then that Elnes turned his attention to Aelly and the others. "I see. I've missed you as well cousin."

Elenora did not bother to respond. Rather, her fists clenched and the air around her changed drastically, sending shivers down Aelly's spine as she quickly picked up Erebus.

"Oh my, what an unusual child you have there. My, my! It has horns!" 

Harry intercepted him just as he was about to make his way toward them. "No further steps."

"Or what?" He grinned at him. "You'll declare war and flee?"

"No, that was merely a courtesy." He gave him a grin of his own. "I simply wanted the two of you to know who would be killing you."

"Bold, aren't we?" 

"Is it truly bold when I'm as much of a god as you are?"

"Nobody even knows you exist! You aren't even in major arcana!!"

"Who the hell made sure of that?!!!" He snapped. "Who?!!"

"You know I cannot live without worship!"

"Neither could he!! And had I or Elenora been the same, you would've disposed of us just as quickly wouldn't you?!!"

When Elnes fought to give him a proper answer Elenora took the chance, seeing as he was completely distracted, and began to convince the corpse. She spoke the tongue of the underworld, bringing about the attention of the body Elnes possessed. It listened to her as she convinced it to combust. It listened as she told it it would be thanked for its sacrifice one way or another. It listened and believed, and before everyone's very eyes, Elnes' body went up in flames in a matter of seconds. 

All that was left was ash to step on.


	16. —Elements & Creation—

"So when were you planning to tell me you were a god this whole time?!" Aelly snapped. "This whole time you had me thinking you were some third rate tree-assaulting magician!"

"I originally meant to let you know once you and the chimera starved to death." He knelt before the mound of ash and picked it up before letting the breeze blow it from his grasp.

"I hate to suggest this but we've got no choice." Elenora sighed, staring pointedly at Harry. "We must go to Zacaria."

"I was thinking the same thing." He pushed himself to his feet. "Now that the family found me, it's only a matter of time before they attempt to smite us."

Elenora ran a hand through her hair. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't used your stupid creation magic without asking me first!"

"I already knew the shield was down. Do you think me stupid?"

"Yes! Gods yes!" She glared at him. "More so now! Why would you expose yourself if you already knew Elnes and the others would find you?!"

He remained quiet, pensive as he watched Erebus jump out of Aelly's arms and rush on over to him. "It's been nearly five centuries since I cut his main source of sustenance. I simply wanted to see for myself just how pathetic he's become since then."

"Well are you satisfied? Now that you've put us all in fucking danger you twat?!"

"Language." He picked up Erebus and cast a look at both Elenora and Aelly. "Need I remind you you're a lady, not a sailor?"

"Oh go fuck off!" She tossed her hand over her shoulder as she spun around and made her way back inside. "I'm a goddess not some stupid mortal!"

Aelly, the stupid mortal in this equation, frowned.

"Do not let her get to you." Harry brushed Erebus' hair from her round face. "All gods think mortals are stupid. It's nothing personal."

Ignoring his botched attempt at comfort she asked: "What exactly is so bad about creation magic?"

"Oh?" He quirked a brow as Erebus then turned her hazel eyes upon her. "What's this? You're still talking to me? I thought—"

"Drop the quips and answer the stupid question."

"I am Haravac, God of Elements." He let Erebus jump off his arms. "As such I can control and create anything I wish so long as the required elements already exist. I can combine elements and form new ones indefinitely. I can create things such as money with a single snap of my fingers. On the downside, if I so wish it I can also end lives with a snap of my fingers." He stared at his staff and grinned. "Everything on this earth is made up of elements. That includes every living being."

Luckily, Erebus wasn't within earshot as she had quickly run back inside the manor leaving the two of them alone. Unfortunately, Aelly didn't have the same luck and wound up with a shiver running up and down her spine. Leave it to Harry to remind her of her frail mortality. Anything could kill her at this point. It was only a miracle Erebus hadn't offed her yet.

"Very well. Now why didn't you use your creation magic up until now? Why did you let us starve for a whole month?"

"I am a god and so is Elenora." He turned to face her, placing his staff before him as he rested both hands atop the leather handle. "Our divinity isn't something we can easily hide. That is why we took a hold of our current mortal vessels and abstained from using our godly abilities unless we were safely hidden. Say for example, beneath a magical barrier er, shield?"

"That's...." she gestured at him. "That's not your body?"

He furrowed a brow and stared down at himself before realizing what she meant. "I created this body based upon my image. I am the god of elements remember?"

"And Elenora?" She set down her hand. "Did you make her a body as well?"

He shook his head. "She felt it'd be safest to posses a mortal woman rather than have me create a soulless vessel."

"How would that be safer?"

"Because the vessel looks nothing like her original form and she could use the woman's soul to further hide her own divinity."

"That's.... That's twisted."

"Twisted gods create a twisted world creates twisted people create twisted circumstances." His smile slowly dropped.

"What?" She made a face. "Are you trying to be deep right now?"

"I don't typically try to be deep when I've got quite the staff to deal with."

"Oh really now? Is that why you're overcompensating with that finery?"

"Overcompensating?" He grinned. "Darling, would you like to test me out?"

"No." She sighed, shaking her head. "Alright so what's your deal with Elnes?"

Her subject change gave him whiplash. "What?"

"Elnes. The god of peace. Why are you fighting with a god of peace?"

"Ah." He nodded to himself. "Did he really seem peaceful to you?"

"Maybe he was stressed out because of you."

"Really?"

She shrugged, fully unaware of the tuft of black hair covering her right brow.

"He's the god of manipulation." He sighed. "He one day descended upon the earth and with his abilities tricked the whole freaking planet into thinking he was worthy of their adoration. He healed the sick and lifted the weary. With a single touch, he turned dry barren land into bountiful crops. With a flick of his wrist all forms of pestilence and wounds went away. In no time at all he had humanity believing he created the very earth he healed." 

"Wouldn't that make him a god of healing? Not manipulation?"

He shook his head. "He can manipulate anything he touches. He manipulated the earth into being sustainable and bountiful just as much as he manipulated the bodies of the sick into being healthy once more. If angered he can be quite formidable."

"So why did you anger him?"

"Because he angered me first." A dark look overcame his features. "And my wrath is long lasting."

"What happened?" She stopped him in his tracks. "Elenora told me you two lost loved ones before you defected."

"It's a long story." He sighed. "But I assume it's only fair I tell it. I owe you at least so much."

They were standing a few steps away from the front door by now. And much to his surprise he saw a grin overcome Aelly's ever present frown as she then gave him a light tap. Elenora called out her name making her turn around leaving her unable to notice him nearly toppling over.

"At least you admit to that much." She began to cross the threshold. "But I think you should save us that tale for when we're back on the road."

He rubbed at his shoulder, holding back a hiss as he watched her walk into the manor only to have Elenora toss a batch of candies at her. To Aelly it may have been a light tap of the shoulder but according to his bones, she didn't know how to measure her strength.

He'd have to make sure not to anger her once again.

***************

—Thirty Minutes Later—

Maybe it was the weather, the cool night air, or maybe they had finally spoken to each other like adults. Whatever the case, Erebus found herself happy to see that her two favorite people in the world were now back on speaking terms. Elenora wasn't speaking to Harry, sure. But Erebus, ever the perceptive one could very much tell that the majority of her anger stemmed from something much darker something which had little to do with Harry himself. Oddly enough Erebus hadn't come across such bloodlust since the day she escaped from her entrapment. It was absolutely bone chilling to come across such an aura once more.

They had taken what they could and packed whatever utensils and herbs Elenora required inside two leather suitcases, both of which were being carried by Harry all the while Erebus sat on his shoulders, clutching to his hair so as to keep herself from falling back.

Aelly walked beside them, now wearing a brown coat over her shoulders while Elenora made her way ahead of them. Elenora had offered Aelly a dress to wear only to find out that Aelly found dresses all too inconvenient for what appeared to be a long trip back to the southeast. That and she preferred dark colored dresses with scandalous décolletage and all Elenora had to offer were pretty pastel dresses. She had little against dresses in all honesty. She just happened to have a specific style in mind is all.

So now she wore black pantaloons, a fitted gray shirt, and lace up shoes. Her hair had been brushed back and her right wrist had been bandaged, effectively hiding the mark from potential onlookers. Surprisingly enough, she had allowed herself the luxury of wearing hoop earrings which Elenora had gifted her, thinking it would help her recover her "long lost" femininity.

They were walking down the same road they had traversed hours ago. Looking to her right, Erebus could still see the silhouette of the tree Harry had climbed. The moon appeared to be full and the breeze was set in on its mission to sway the tree branches, the blades of grass, even Elenora's skirts.

Much to her dismay, Erebus' stomach grumbled. Loudly.

"Candy time." Harry announced.

Aelly reached for the small pouch Elenora had given her earlier and pulled out a gleaming blue ball and tossed it in Erebus' direction. Once Erebus caught it in her hand, she popped it into her mouth and chewed, forcing her face to remain neutral in spite of the awful taste. It tasted like boiled vegetables and burnt chicken. Still, the only upside to the candy was that it served its purpose which was to fill her belly as an alternative to... well her eating an entire village.

"Does it taste bad?" Harry asked as he stared on ahead. He couldn't lift his head to look at her even if he wanted to.

Erebus shook her head.

"I've eaten her food before. No need to lie."

She tried to speak only to realize that no words could form out of her mouth.

As if noticing this, he explained: "It may take you some time to learn how to speak.... though I don't personally guarantee it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Elenora and I's conjoined spell merely gave her the ability to shapeshift into a human form. There is no telling what she can and can't do. I mean she still has the insatiable hunger of a dragon."

"So these," Aelly lifted her pouch to eye level. "And that potion spell are all half-assed solutions?"

He shrugged. "Erebus here has the potential to be one of the strongest mortal beings in the world. On the other hand, she can be yet another helpless human at the mercy of a manipulative god's whims. I am simply allowing her the chance to weight her options and decide what she wants to be later on."

"And you didn't think it a good idea to ask me first?"

"It's her choice to make, not yours."

She glared at him before turning her attention back ahead. "You're lucky sign language is a compulsory subject within the nunnery."

"Is combat also compulsory there?"

"No. Being constantly chased by paladins forces you to become a good combatant."

"I see."

He still couldn't quite bring himself to forget the way she overpowered him. Then again he had given himself a mortal body with an average level of strength. He hadn't exactly counted on Aelly's freakish strength to begin with. Although, Ilema did choose her for a reason; she wouldn't exactly make a weakling her chosen one.

"I knew she'd make a move," he mused aloud. "Just not this one."

"What?"

He turned to look at his friend and shrugged. "I got lost in thought."

Aelly and Erebus exchanged a glance. One which Harry had long since come to fully recognize: they were judging him. He sighed, he might as well distract them. "Hey Eri, would you like to hear a story?"

Erebus nodded only to realize he couldn't see her let alone hear her.

Upon noticing her dismay Aelly caught her attention. Once Erebus' eyes were on her, she raised a fist and moved it up and down, making her hand mimic a nod. "This means yes."

Erebus nodded and quickly went out of her way to show Harry what she had just learned.

"Very well." He tried not to grimace as Erebus once again pulled at his hair. "Once upon a time...."


	17. —The Beginning of the End—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *****A/N*****
> 
> Just a heads up, this is where the story begins! These coming chapters will explain everything and provide further answers to some questions y'all may have! Also, a small extra note here, since they are gods I made them have a different stature than that of the average human. So instead of being within the four to six foot height range, the gods are within the seven to ten foot height range.

At one point in time, the earth was an effervescent place in which all manner of humans magical or no lived at peace in spite of their differences. Humans were allowed to worship whichever deity they so desired without fear or judgement. And the gods that once relished that peace found themselves happier frolicking among mortals, handing out pointless adventures every now and then, than they did in their actual home where they would face judgement from their peers. Judgement for holding humanity at a higher pedestal than their own divinity.

Haravac had once been one of those judgmental gods. Though at the time he wasnt known as Haravac but rather as Cavarah, goddess of Elements and Creativity. She held humanity at a low esteem, seeing it as a troublesome virus destined to consume the earth with their endless avarice. Occasionally she would explore the earth and though she never found a temple worshiping her likeness, she would always find a new object to create for the betterment of earth. 

It wasn't something she always did. She didn't really care for human worship, she already had her precious oracles all of which had received their precious gifts from her. Gifts given out to settle a bet. 

Her brother Pirvalin, god of Song, kept trying to convince her that humanity was more than she gave it credit for. That humanity was intelligent and self reliant, worthy of godly respect. She in turn had agreed: Humanity is intelligent however they weren't as self reliant as Pirvalin believed them to be. That if given the chance to wield magic in subtle convenient ways, humanity would find themselves using their own intelligence in order to find ways to rely on it even further.

And so the bet came to be. 

If Cavarah proved to Pirvalin just how twisted humanity truly was then he'd have to sing her a ballad before the whole pantheon. However, if Pirvalin won she was to not only allow humanity to keep those gifts but also to create an instrument that harmonized with his songs.

As if by coincidence, Alba, goddess of Fate went into a deep endless sleep. One which she herself had not bothered to predict before the pantheon, sending them all into a frenzy once news got out. The gods, regardless of familial rank, worried just how terrible of an omen her sudden death carried with it.

Cavarah on the other hand saw it as a chance to settle a bet. She snuck into the goddess's home, and into her chambers, and with a knife drew out both her eyes. Once that was done she then forged an illusion over Alba's face, making it appear clean and undisturbed. Afterward she altered the composition of her eyes, turning them into a fine glittering white powder. And after storing said powder within a bottle she descended to earth. 

Cavarah sought out the greediest humans she could find and with a sprinkle of the powder, granted them foresight. At first, they behaved just how she expected them; using their newfound abilities to garner more wealth and influence. 

"Give it time," her brother had advised once she demanded a ballad. "I know I'll win."

She also had that same exact self confidence so she didn't mind granting humanity more time with the gift.

Sure enough, once those newly formed aristocrats caught sight of incoming pestilence they didn't hesitate to inform the kingdom. They spread word to the common wealth along with advise on how to prevent being hit by the worst of it. They behaved against their best interests in spite of being the most selfish greedy mortals Cavarah had bothered to find. Sure, a handful of them hadn't bothered with the common wealth and instead went on to prepare themselves for the incoming misfortune. But the grand majority put aside their own selfish desires for the sake of saving lives from incoming starvation. 

Once again, Cavarah found herself relieved she was wrong. Still, her overall opinion of humanity did not change.

"I win."

She grinned turning to stare at him as he leaned against the entrance's pillar, arms folded over his chest. For a god of Song and Music he sure managed to look more like a war god. He was as tall and wide as a mountain. His belly fat had no way of keeping the common eye from noticing his overwhelming muscles and intimidating mug. His curly black hair had been cut short and braided back away from his rather handsome face. His mustache curled at the sides, hinting at his never ending optimistic nature and easy smiles. He wore golden sandals beneath a white tunic as a red cloth covered his upper body from the freezing temperatures. 

"How is it that you manage to outsmart me every time?" She looked out beyond the edge of the cliff, gazing at the clouds drifting a ways beneath them, overlooking the mortal realm. "Aren't I supposed to be the one with the wits around here?"

Pirvalin grinned, the sides of his eyes crinkling as he spoke: "I am not as cunning as you are sister. We both know I am always one to bet on humanity."

She held out her hands and began to use the ongoing breeze to weave him an instrument worthy of his voice. "'Tis why the other gods scorn you."

"Why do you despise humanity so?"

This gave her pause. She had never stopped to consider such a thing before. Maybe because it was just so completely unimportant. 

"You don't know, do you?" 

"I do not despise mortals."

"Then why are your judgements of them so negative?"

"Why are yours always so positive?" She gave him a look. "It's as if you haven't witnessed their wars and pointless bloodshed. How easily they disregard each other's lives for their own benefit."

"And you, haven't you witnessed their charity? Their kindness and caring for one another in spite of their actions leaving little to no benefit to them beyond that of a clean conscience?"

"I see you two are bickering again."

Looking over her shoulder she saw Elenora making her way toward them from the other side of the entrance both gods happened to be leaning against. 

She was taller than Pirvalin by at least ten inches, measuring at least ten feet and three inches. She was long legged and frail looking, a creature that seldom times resembled a human mortal. She wore a flowing pink dress and a thick white veil over her head, keeping her features an eternal mystery. Her skin was a faded gray color while her nails remained a vibrant orange hue. She looked nothing like the gods of the primordial realm, the one Caravah resided on. Then again that probably had something to do with her being a goddess of the underworld. 

Beyond her, Caravah could see the primordial realm in all its glory. What with its fragrant flowers and beautifully colored trees decorating the land as roads made of gold adorned the eternally fertile ground. Glittering rivers of healing water flowed on from the mountain top before cascading down below, filling the clouds that lingered above earth's atmosphere with blessings. The homes of the gods surrounded the mountain, glittering against the moonlight before the blunt glory of the Primordial Palace cut off the flow of those decorative homes with its glittering diamond walls and golden towers.

And now as she observed the realm she caught sight of yet another batch of glowing orbs making their way out toward the stars. 

"How many did you collect today?" Pirvalin asked.

She held up her carved wooden box, sighing. "Twenty."

"Any idea what's killing the gods?" Cavarah inquired. "Elnes keeps searching for an answer on earth but the useless idiot cannot figure it out yet. Days here are tantamount to centuries on earth. It'd take him forever to find a clue."

"Do not call the grand ruler useless!" Elenora clutched at her chest, stepping back.

"Why not? We're his responsibility and he still hasn't found a solution to our problem." Upon finishing her instrument she handed it out to Pirvalin.

"Cannot say I disagree." He examined the instrument. "What is this called again?"

"It is a violin." 

"I see."

"How long did it take for you two to settle your bet?"

"Two earth centuries." Pirvalin grinned, adoringly staring into his violin. "And now with this at my disposal I'm guaranteed at reviving my worship!"

"So two days."

Cavarah nodded before bracing herself, looking out toward the human realm once more. "I'm glad you two are here."

"Why so?" Elenora asked.

"Up until now I worried you two had mysteriously died as well." 

"Oh! Do not say that " Pirvalin's eyes widened. "There's no reason for us to die! We may be lower ranking gods but we are still powerful in our own right!"

"So was Alba, and Orae, and Sonvuk, and Ybalva, and Wulnori, and—"

"Since when did you care about those gods?" Elenora asked though not cruelly.

"I knew them all once, had interesting conversations with them." She then paused. "Well, never mind Alba. She can go rot in eternal darkness for all I care."

"You two did always hate each other." Elenora conceded.

"She had no business foreseeing my future creations and taking my due credit. Humans don't even know I exist because of her endless interference."

"Is that why you begrudge them so?" 

She offered no answer and instead went on to say: "it's been a week since her death. Since the end of the source of my irritation. This brings forth a new era for me, a new beginning, a new me. I will no longer be stepped on by the other gods! I'll be able to hold my own and attain the respect I deserve!"

"Oh?" Pirvalin set down his violin. "Do show us this new you. You always do bring about a beautiful visage to look upon."

She grinned at him then. "This new me comes with a new name, a new gender, a new everything. His name will be Haravac and he will make himself known throughout the realms."

"Oh! Now I'm excited, do show us!" Elenora urged on.

And so Caravah became Haravac. His stature grew to match that of Pirvalin's nine feet and five inches. His body morphed into that of a male's and his legs elongated slightly as a result. His facial features morphed as well, dropping the soft kindness he always wore for a sharper more cunning appearance. He changed his dress for a baby blue toga and a black sash hanging off his shoulders. The only thing that didn't change was his long brown wavy hair.

He allowed them to admire his visage a while longer than necessary, basking in their attention.

"Truly I say to you, had I known no better I would have assumed you to be my blood relative." Pirvalin marveled.

Lifting a brow Haravac wondered why he came to such a conclusion. After all, he didn't really have a mirror and his own imagination could only help him so much.

Though he couldn't see himself Elenora and Pirvalin could. They saw a young man with hope in his deep set cyan colored eyes. His brown hair had been braided away from his face allowing them to see just how sharp his jawline was. He had hollow cheeks that dimpled easily and high cheekbones that allowed for his eyes to wrinkle whenever he bothered to smile. His mouth, though not expressing anything at the moment, held a slight curl at the sides which made him appear to be on the brink of merriment. 

Though he was handsome and appeared to be approachable enough there was something about the way he carried himself that let people know better than to take him lightly. After all, he was the very good who scooped out a goddess' eyes out and used them to his advantage.

One could only hope to imagine what he'd be capable of once he was truly angered.


	18. —The Beginning of the End pt. 2–

"I do not understand why someone as powerful as yourself is content being a lower ranking god." Pirvalin commented as they watched Elenora leave the Primordial realm, descending to earth, ready to collect more souls into her carved wooden box before delivering them to the underworld.

Haravac shrugged a shoulder. "Attention around these parts garners responsibilities I don't need."

"You say you are tired of having the other gods step all over you and yet you know they only bother showing respect to higher ranking gods. Someone like you could easily dethrone Elnes and Ilema... is what I'm getting at." He stared down at his violin. "You don't need human worship for sustenance like the rest of us."

Haravac stared at the violin in his hand, arms crossed over his chest. "You could always feast on their souls."

"You forget they are people too."

"And you forget we are powerful gods." He pushed himself off the pillar and began to make his way back inside the primordial realm. "Relying on human attention for sustenance is nothing short of pathetic."

"We are not all gods." Pirvalin followed behind him. "You forget demigods such as myself aren't as self sustaining as you full fledged deities are! Without human glorification our divinity dwindles and—" Pirvalin grimaced and clutched his chest. 

"Ilema is a demigoddess herself and she herself devours souls when need be." It was then that he heard the sound of the violin falling to the ground. Knowing how careful his brother was he found it odd he'd drop a brand new violin and so, Haravac stopped mid-step, paused, and turned to look over his shoulder. 

He saw his brother ever so tall and strong, intimidating and charming, fallen on the ground face down looking as frail as any other mortal. Horrified he ran to him and tried to rouse him, calling his name over and over again, his panic rising alongside the relief that Elenora hadn't materialized before them yet. There was no way he'd let her take his brother's soul from his body. There's no way someone as good and kind as his brother deserved to have his life cut short like this. 

Thinking it had something to do with the current affliction plaguing the gods, Haravac wasted no time tearing off Pirvalin's divinity in an effort to make him a full fledged mortal once more. He used his gifts as best he could to alter Pirvalin's genetic composition until he was sure he had restored his humanity. However his divinity, it had nowhere to go. It rested on Haravac's hand like a flame never to be quenched, like a bothersome pest. And so, Haravac took a hold of the fallen violin, bow and all, and held it by the neck as he then poured Pirvalin's divinity into the instrument allowing for it to change its appearance. 

It went from being a simple brown wooden violin to one made of vibrant red unbreakable glass with golden glittering strings. Realizing the potential threat he had just created Haravac quickly cast a curse upon it, saying:

"Whosoever holds a strong soul, a sound mind, and a kindness as powerful as Pirvalin's may carry on the music this instrument brings forth."

Haravac then proceeded to toss it as far away as he could, allowing it to fall into the mortal realm. Humans may be pests but they still didn't hold the same level of threat the gods within the primordial realm held. It was better off there.

"....Brother?" 

Haravac then turned to look at his brother, gripping his hands tightly in his own. Having previously thought his divinity was the cause of his sudden demise he assumed its removal would be the solution he needed. However he failed to realize one thing: time always has a way of catching up to mortals. Especially those over three thousand years old.

The once imposing demigod who stood at nine feet and five inches tall and held a body as robust and strong as a volcano now withered down to a solid six feet and three inches. His head easily fit within Haravac's palm with room to spare. Though he still held his robust frame and intimidating visage there was a brand new frailty to his regained humanity. 

He watched him try to sit up only to be overcome by nausea and fall back into his grasp. 

Haravac's voice was below a whisper. "What have I done?"

"What happened here?" Asked Uliani, goddess of space and time. "Why does his age cry out to me?"

"His dwindling mortality summons me." Came Elenora's voice from behind.

Pirvalin grinned at him, cyan colored eyes glittering. "I make quite the magnet, don't I?"

"I ..." a tear drop escaped his left eye. "I'm such an idiot."

"Cousin," Uliani crouched down beside him. "I do not fully understand what happened but his time has come. We mus—"

"No!!" He attempted to push her away.

"Do not fight us cousin," Uliani sighed, dodging his hand. "Nature must take its course. It must be so."

It was then that Haravac turned to glare at Uliani.

Like any other goddess residing in the primordial realm, she was beautiful. She had dark brown skin which held a golden glow whenever the sun struck it right. She had warm brown eyes and long curly black hair which reached well past her shoulders, flowing freely along the breeze, allowing for her diamond earrings to show themselves. She wore a flowing silver dress with bell shaped sleeves, a plunging neckline, and an endless array of jewelry. In her eyes there was a mixture of sympathy and sorrow.

"At least allow him to live and age among mortals."

She shook her head. "I cannot favor one mortal over another." 

"He is dying as we speak." Elenora added. "Even if we wanted to we can't grant him further life."

"At least allow us to end his life quickly, without pain." Uliani went on. "The longer you fight this the worse it'll be for him."

"I have no qualms." Pirvalin sighed, eyes closing slowly. "I've lived a long happy life. I know my after life is bound to be an adventure worth having."

Uliani smiled at him. "I've always loved your positivity, cousin."

"You and Korinth, Xiamizi, Haravac, and Elenora," he paused to take a breath. "I love you all."

Elenora knelt beside him, brushing a stray curl from his face. "Paradise awaits, brother."

"I can't wait."

And so it happened. With a single gentle touch, Uliani allowed for the natural composition of his body to match that of a three thousand year old man. And in seconds his body turned to dust on Haravac's lap while Elenora swiftly collected his soul within her box. 

Haravac himself didn't remember the exact moment his tears began to stream down his face uncontrollably. He did not recall his grief bursting out of his throat, letting itself be known throughout the realms as Uliani tried her best not to shed a tear while Elenora quietly made her way to the underworld.

Carrying with her the only human Haravac had ever loved.


	19. —The Beginning of the End pt. 3—

For Haravac there has always been one grand rule that comes in handy when you truly want to garner information you shouldn't get a hold of and that is: never make your intentions clear. Do not let people know what you need, what you want, what you crave. Let them lower their guards and take advantage from there on. 

That is precisely what Haravac did the moment Pirvalin died. He dried his tears, bid goodbye to Uliani and waited for news of his death to flow throughout the realm. Something which took up to three days, days in which he pretended to be indifferent to his death, openly disregarding him as a human loving fool. He assisted one too many parties, engaged in an awful lot of mischief until he was absolutely sure the other gods believed him to be his normal self. Lowering their guards.

Elenora however knew better. She knew his merriment was nothing more than a very thin veil threatening to tear apart at any moment. And if his eyes were any indication nothing would be left standing once that veil tore apart. She tried consoling him whenever she got the chance in hopes that with time he would heal once he came to terms with his grief.

He never did. 

If anything that very grief had made his senses sharper forcing him to take note of things he had previously ignored. This in mind, he noticed that both Elnes and Ilema would disappear off to the mortal realm three days out of the week and at first he assumed it was because they were desperately searching for a cure. Something to prevent further gods from mysteriously dying. However, his positive assumptions of them had been spoon fed to him by none other than Pirvalin. 

For centuries Pirvalin was what kept Haravac's pessimistic nature from corrupting his mind more than it had to. For centuries Pirvalin was the rock that balanced out Haravac's negativity. But now Pirvalin was gone and there weren't any rocks heavy enough to return his balance. And so, those positive assumptions he had previously believed, withered away only to be replaced by an ever growing suspicion. 

And so he descended upon the mortal realm in secret, taking full advantage of the night and its never ending shadows. He traversed the earth in a disembodied form no mortal eye could see and found that the once effervescent earth he had once known was no more.

He had been gone for no more than five hundred earth years and in that time Elnes and Ilema had grown their influence among the foolish mortals. Though this was the case Elnes was the one basking in the glory the humans cast upon him, making him the one and only god to be worshipped within his newly made empire with its god chosen emperor. As for Ilema she did have temples dedicated to her here and there but no more. Still, these two had garnered so much worship for themselves that they had overshadowed the legion of demigods that once frolicked about the earth. Demigods that were nowhere to be found. 

If his suspicions were correct then only the demigods residing within the primordial realm had been spared. That would mean that there were no more than three hundred demigods left. Three hundred demigods without a single temple to their name. Three hundred demigods who weren't using human worship for sustenance. 

In spite of his pessimistic nature he still sought out proof of what that implied. He spied on the mortals, on their officials, even on the emperor himself and all he found were vague answers. All the humans spoke of were the dragons that kept attacking human crowds on the outskirts of the empire, burning entire villages to the ground. According to the nights and the holy paladins there was nothing they could do to stop the menace. No arrow or blade could pierce through their tough skin and that is without mentioning how much water it took to put out a single tiny flame.

Haravac's gut twisted. He had created dragons to help fight off bitter winters and ward off further human expansion thus keeping the earth safe for a while longer. Still he had made the creatures so docile that humans eventually realized they could always just hunt them for sport. Using their lopped heads for decoration up on their stone walls, above their fireplace, wherever made for a good presentation. In spite of this, Haravac continued making more dragons, this time tougher to kill with tougher skin, brutal fires, and sharper much more elongated fangs. Allowing his creations a chance against a sadistic species. However in spite of his slight alterations he had kept their docile nature, keeping them from acting out of turn unless provoked.

However there were those humans that didn't provoke them but rather cherished. They bonded with the creatures until their trust was so mutual they never doubted one another in the skies. Upon noticing this Pirvalin had gone on a frenzy writing an endless array of ballads for the dragon riders. Haravac had paid them no mind given how most of those dragon riders appeared to have a peaceful nature and often kept to themselves, becoming men without a land to call their own.

However, according to the mortals Haravac had spied on, the era of dragon riders and beautiful song had come to an end long ago. It was clear to Haravac that Elnes had used his abilities and manipulated his creation tearing apart their docile nature and replacing it with a never ending violent hunger. A mindless hunger that turned his sweet creatures into predators. Predators who annihilated horde upon horde of humans, harvesting souls ripe for the picking. Souls three hundred demigods would hungrily descend upon.

Given how he couldn't bring himself to destroy his sweet dragons, his sweet innocent creation which had been so perverted by self indulgent gods, he sought out a new solution. He modified their bodies, returning them to their original vulnerable state. He fixed their insatiable hunger, directing it at livestock rather than human beings. And then he left allowing the humans to do their thing and in no time at all the dragons dwindled in number until they eventually sought refuge within the deserts, as far as they could get from humanity. 

Once that was taken care of he then turned his attention to the oracles he had created. Sure he had made them to settle a stupid bet which he had surprisingly lost. Upon realizing the impending drought the most selfish of the oracles went out of their way to help the common wealth by giving out warning after warning, advice after advice. They acted so high and mighty so self righteous then. But what about now? What, they couldn't foresee thousands of humans dying every month?! They couldn't give those poor innocents refuge?! No. He then realized, no, it's not that they couldn't they simply wouldn't. 

And so, Haravac sought out the oracles, the descendants of those selfish pigs he had originally blessed with his stupid fairy dust. Upon finding them he then revoked the gift and restored the dust back into its flask. He didn't do this gently either. He practically tore out the dust from their eyes making them bleed as a result waking them from their sleep. 

"My apologies Pirvalin," Haravac grinned. "But this time around I win."


	20. —The Beginning of the End pt. 4—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is confused, the godly familial rankings work like so:
> 
> 1.) Brother/Sister/Sibling = Typically used toward someone of equal standing
> 
> 2.) Little brother/little sister/little sibling= Refers to someone of lower standing but of equal strength.
> 
> 3.) Son/Daughter/Scion = someone of lower standing but with potential to up the ranks
> 
> 4 .) Cousin = usually used toward someone of both lower ranking and strength.
> 
> 5.) Your Grace= used toward someone of higher rank & strength
> 
> Had to type this down or else I myself would get confused lol

Elnes god of manipulation and grand ruler of the primordial realm did not look like a god hailing from said realm. Instead he looked like a god that came directly from the underworld. What with his curled horns poking at the sky several inches above his head. His elongated ears, pierced with a seemingly endless array of diamonds. His skin was as gray as ash while his hair and nails appeared to be as black as coal. He was a towering ten feet tall, full of corded muscle. His features held a kind of merciless sharpness to them that made it hard for anyone who approached him to believe his pleasant disposition to be honest. Currently, he wore mint colored robes atop his toga which was being held together by a golden rope.

"Ah! Cavarah! My dear, you've changed! Why but just a few days ago you were one of the most beautiful women in the Primordial realm!" Elnes grinned, icy eyes alight. "What identity is it this time?"

"The name's Haravac, I am male."

"Ah so you reversed your name? How creative of you." Elnes settled his chin over his fist while his free hand rested atop his knee. "Now tell me, what brings you here?"

Behind him the demigods began to whisper among themselves. They had gathered within the throne-room to discuss the upcoming season: who would become the god elected to run rampant throughout the mortal realm without fear of repercussions? Which god deserved to be promoted within the familial ranks? Should they still ask for constant prayer when they barely even need it anymore?

"I have a few questions." He looked up at Elnes. "And I hope you have some good answers for me."

Elnes lifted a hand, silencing the crowd.

Somewhere among the crowd, Xiamizi, god of Balance, turned to look at his friend Korinth, god of Light, who in turn shrugged silently letting him know he also didn't know what the fuck was going on. Uliani who had been standing behind the two sighed, frowning as she also wondered just what was going through Haravac's mind.

"Ask away."

Haravac glowered at Elnes. "What happened to my dragons?"

It was at that moment that Elenora stepped into the open throne room. For a goddess of the underworld she found herself constantly visiting the primordial realm. Not because she liked the place but rather because she wanted to ensure Haravac was doing well.

Uliani peered up at her once she noticed Elenora. "Is he at peace?"

"He is currently filling the underworld with music. I fear the dead will dance eternally with him there."

Uliani grinned before turning her attention back to the scene playing out before them.

"Well this is a rather unexpected question." Elnes got to his feet. "What's wrong with your dragons?"

"They are carnivorous now."

"And?"

"They were originally harmless herbivores." Haravac crossed his arms. "But someone manipulated their nature and had them killing humans in droves. Funny thing too, they never seemed to get full; they kept eating themselves to death."

"I hope you are not suggesting what I think you are, cousin."

"Now dears, what is this quarrel about?"

The crowd surrounding both gods parted, allowing for Ilema to step through in all her nine foot glory. Milky white skin, rosy lips and cheeks, and white wavy hair that reached well past her bosom. She was someone not to be ignored. Dark liner marked her eyes and brows so as to give a contrast to her transparent features while a crown made up of heather adorned the top of her head. She wore a cream colored dress with purple lace and a heart shaped neckline and as she walked her skirts formed a tail of sorts that momentarily carpeted the reflective floor. Hanging from her neck, wrists, and ears were purple diamonds each much shinier than the last. She was a vision to behold and at first glance no one would have guessed her to be a merciless demigoddess of war and strategy. The crown princess to the primordial realm.

"Little sister." Elnes gave her a nod as she joined him at his side.

She turned her attention to Haravac, expecting him to acknowledge her presence. When he didn't she asked: "Cavarah, is that you?"

"His name is Haravac now."

She turned to Elnes. "He reversed his name?"

"I believe so."

"My! How creative of him."

"I know! That's what I said!"

"Oh please, it's not as creative—" the steel in his voice brought silence into the throne room. "—I imagine, as taking one of my creations and perverting it into something without purpose beyond blood shed."

Upon hearing this Elenora frowned. Being the goddess of influence and deliverance she thought she'd be able to remember delivering souls of the dead. Especially those slaughtered by one of Haravac's beloved creations... creations which were more often than not beneficial to the mortal realm.

"What do you mean, brother?" She stepped forward. "I have yet to deliver a single dragon slain soul."

He turned to face the silent crowd, looking past Elenora's shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest. "There is this new flourishing empire... they call it Levianon. After the great monster Leviathan which I created out of boredom only to have it slain by Elnes."

"Where are you going with this?" Elnes' brows furrowed.

He ignored him. "They are pretty well developed there. They have a grand church and a holy book and everything. Funny thing is they mainly seem to adore Elnes and ignore every other god who isn't him." He looked over his shoulder and grinned at Ilema. "Even Ilema is having a hard time staying above water."

Ilema looked away, biting the inside of her cheek, frowning.

Elnes remained silent waiting for him to continue. And continue he did:

"But we have mouths to feed, though in all honesty you demigods feed yourselves with worship and human attention." Silver threads began to fall from his fingertips, intermingling as he went on to weave. "Not one of you demigods has a temple to your name, no one worships your hollow glory, and yet you're all here radiating health, robust with tainted divinity."

"Don't tell me you care about the humans." Ilema's voice was icy. "You who so constantly thought them inferior of your attentions."

"Oh and they are." He continued weaving. "But you people fucked with my dragons and had them do your dirty work all the while Elnes basked in an endless array of ever growing worship, believing himself a full fledged god. And in the end my beloved brother Pirvalin paid the price. I think it a miracle you vultures didn't feast on his soul the moment he died."

Elenora's blood ran cold. "What did you say?"

"Please tell me these are baseless accusations." Uliani stepped forward.

Korinth stood beside her. "I loved those dragons."

"You better have a valid reason for this Elnes." Xiamizi's voice held warning.

By then Haravac had finished weaving himself a sword made up of iridescent metal and winking gold. It's blade winked in the light as if threatening to slice the atmosphere itself with a single swing. The sword measured up to thirty inches and weighted two pounds, balancing well in Haravac's hand.

"Think carefully before you speak," Haravac stared at his sword, silently critiquing his handiwork. "If your answer does not satisfy me, I will kill all of these parasites." 

"You full fledged gods have it so easy," Ilema sighed. "You don't need human worship to feed your eternal divinity while we do due to our mortal flaw. And yet you judge us when we grow tired of such pathetic fickle sustenance and find a wa—"

"We were hungry so we fed ourselves." Elnes cut her off. "Isn't that a good reason in and of itself?"

"How starved were you then?"

Elnes stared at the tense crowd before him, thinking carefully this time about the consequences lining up behind his answer, until he finally said: "Plenty."

Haravac nodded, accepting the answer, taking a step forward to kill the gods when Elenora stopped him in his tracks. He set down his sword and allowed her to turn and face the demigods while Uliani, Korinth and Xiamizi stepped out of her way. They had never seen her use her gift for she avoided using it at all costs given how it had affected countless civilizations before. But now, well now she no longer gave a shit and with three words she wrecked the entire realm:

"Kill each other."


	21. —The End—

The gods quietly watched the carnage Elenora had influenced go on for the next five to ten minutes before it eventually died down leaving behind pile after pile of corpses and a blood soaked floor. As for their souls, Elenora captured them within her box before setting it ablaze allowing for those former demigods to scream away their burning lives for who knows how long up until silence overtook the throne room.

"Happy now?" Elnes' voice echoed. 

"None of this would have happened," Elenora turned to face him. "If you had left things as they were."

"Left them?" His brow shot up, a cynical smile grew as he spoke: "Do you know how fickle human attention can be? How many demigods there are? How tough it is to constantly come out on top only to get one pathetic selfish prayer sent your way?"

"You knew of this when you first became a demigod; we warned you."

"That was a different time, Ellie. Back then there were only a handful of deities to compete with." His eyes shifted directly at Korinth. "Had he left things as they were none of this would have happened." 

"Maybe..." said Korinth, taking a step beside Elenora. "Had I realized much sooner how unworthy you were of your divinity I would have killed you in time."

"Or maybe if you had stopped spreading your divinity to every mortal who caught your eye things would have turned out different. You foul god of light and solitude."

Korinth glowered at the horned demigod, casting the full glare of his golden eyes upon him. A golden halo floated a ways atop his head, shining a light upon his ethereal features and sharp contours. Flowing black locks rested atop his shoulders as a set of dimples adorned his cheeks, deepening ever so slightly whenever he smiled brightly enough to show a sharp set of canines. Golden nails and golden bracelets adorned his arms, giving way to a slight contrast to his amber skin which cast a light of its own to whoever dared stare a minute too long. A white loose fitting skirt with golden embroidery covered his lower half, reaching well past his knees. 

"The moon is my acolyte while you are nothing more than a failed creature."

"How typical of you to praise a floating rock rather than address the chaos you have instigated." he then turned his attention to Xiamizi. "You can't tell me my anxieties aren't justified."

Xiamizi wore a cloak the color of the cosmos, its silken hood resting ever so heavily atop his head keeping the grand majority of his black hair well out of sight as thin almond shaped eyes observed the helpless situation unraveling before them. One half of his face was the natural color of his skin: golden tan and rosy, while the other half, the lower half, was nothing more than gleaming bone providing unlucky onlookers with an eternal grin. A grin which he constantly kept hidden beneath a sheer black cloth that constantly swallowed the light around it. Whether the rest of his body was flesh or bone or both was left up to everyone's imagination given how he loved to keep himself under wraps. Blue and yellow wraps specifically. 

"I cannot." Xiamizi said evenly.

Haravac swallowed his unease and tightened his grip on his sword. He more than anyone else knew that Xiamizi was nothing more than a wildcard. One simply couldn't predict who's side he'd be on in the name of balance. If the extinction of humanity were the cost of universal balance he would not hesitate to destroy it. On the other hand if bringing balance to the universe meant fighting his own brethren... even Haravac would have a hard time keeping him at bay without ultimately killing him. 

"Even the god of balance and inspiration cannot refute the validity of my worries."

"I cannot." He repeated taking a step back. "However that does not mean I agree with your methods let alone the way in which you have soaked your hands in innocent blood."

"If you truly had such an issue in terms of your own survival," Uliani glowered at him. "Then you should have reached out to Xiamizi earlier. Your worries may be valid but your actions are not."

"And you think I didn't? I did! He told me to worry about better things and find a worthwhile thing to focus on! As if my dwindling life were nothing more than an inconvenience to him!"

"Your fear of death will never make for a good excuse to extinguish human lives."

"Easy for you to say. You are immortals. There's no way death will ever come knocking on your door." He grimaced. "You will never have to wonder if you will be tortured for all eternity simply for living the life you lived. You won't have to wonder what kinds of sins you'll have to answer for. You will live forever while I rot in the ground at your feet."

"I am the goddess of time, had you asked I would have prolonged—"

"Did Pirvalin ask?"

"Do not invoke his name." Korinth all but snarled. "He would have never done the things your underlings did in the name of survival."

"Had their deaths not brought forth any satisfaction in me," Haravac stole a glance at the corpses behind him. "I would have stopped Elenora from doing your dirty work."

"Seems we weren't very subtle." Ilema lifted a brow. 

"Seems that way." Elnes sighed. "Then again he's one for wit."

"What do you mean by that?" Elenora asked Haravac.

"Think about it sister. He constantly had to worry about coming out on top as there was so much competition to deal with and now that you've vanquished them all, there's nothing left standing in his way to eternal glory and worship." He aimed his sword at Ilema. "I wonder if you realize he'll get you killed next."

When Ilema gave no response a bitter grin took over Korinth's features. "So you do. What ties you to him?"

"Pure strategy."

"My sister is one with a plan and I'm one with the execution, our bond is one you cannot hope to—"

"Even a blind fuck can tell she's using you." Elenora cut him off. "However none of this seems to benefit you, what's your endgame?"

"My brother is the one who craves the attention and glory; I do not mind feasting on humanity as a whole to survive." Her eyes went downcast. "I never liked human attention anyway. It's always... cast me in a rather cruel light."

"Oh boo hoo-hooo!" Haravac raised his sword once more. "Human's see me as nothing more than a mischievous entity worthy of their scorn! You're not getting any sympathy here!" 

Ilema barely had a chance to dodge when Haravac's sword sliced out her right eye bringing forth a bloody gash over her face. She let out a scream as she stumbled back covering a wound that would definitely scar. Xiamizi, seeing as both sides had a valid point in their own anger, walked away from the fight, deciding to remain neutral for the time being. Uliani and Korinth left as well, not because they were neutral but because there were other demigods left for them to kill, innocent or no. Elenora fought Elnes for an overall five minutes which resulted in the near destruction of the Primordial Palace before Elnes managed to overpower her. Once her attention was torn from him he gave the finishing blow and knocked her out cold. 

As for Haravac, it didn't matter how many limbs he cut or how deeply he stabbed her with the sword, Ilema always managed to heal and regenerate that very same second. Her bloodied dress and scarred skin were the only traces of his damage upon her. Once Elnes joined her it didn't take Haravac long to realize he was out of his league. Neither Elnes nor Ilema looked as if they had just battled full fledged gods. There was no sweat or panting, just a few scars and torn up clothes. Haravac himself wasn't the least bit tired but the power dripping from the two demigods was overwhelming even for him. Even for all the full fledged gods combined. There was no way he'd win with this imbalance. 

His voice was below a whisper. "Xiamizi you had no reason to be neutral."

"What was that?" Elnes lifted a brow. 

He tossed his sword at his feet. "I declare war."

He looked at the fallen sword before looking back up at him. "Well this is a funny way to declare it."

"I'll fight you again. Next time, on an even field."

Before either Ilema or Elnes could say anything, Haravac brought forth an impenetrable midst around them, blinding them to his escape as he then ran to Elenora, quickly picking her up and running. 

Fleeing to the mortal realm.


	22. —Sweet Southern Music—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place a week after Haravac and the others left Elenora's house.

Valren, or, as his close acquaintances called him: Val had a hard time sleeping since childhood. Every bump in the night had his hairs standing on end. A bump in the night could mean anything to him. It could mean his parents were having another violent fight. It could mean his tyrannical grandfather was beating a servant halfway to death. It could mean his sister had provoked either their father or grandfather into beating her again. To him a bump in the night if ignored could mean the difference between life and death. It was the reason he slept with his room alight. With the door and windows open. With his daggers beneath his pillow.

And had the night remained as silent as it usually did these days he would have remained blissfully asleep. Well, in spite of Earnest's annoying snoring and his Salome's incoherent sleep-talking sessions. But alas something went bump in the night and he couldn't sleep anymore. Upon investigating he found that Earnest had kicked off his boots in his sleep making them fall onto the hollow wooden floor, producing the subtle noise that had awoken him.

He quietly got to his feet and rekindled the fire that had long since faded only to have its warmth be replaced by the cool winter breeze that swayed the trees around them. He then busied himself with readjusting Salome's blanket, making sure it covered her completely and fully shielded her from the cold that had more than likely provoked her sleep talking. After all was said and done he went on to lean against a tree and observe his two companions.

One his precious sister, princess to a wretched empire. The other a four foot tall assassin appointed by a war goddess as his mentor in arms. One was more precious than the other but as it was he couldn't afford to offend a goddess by disregarding her wishes.

Sighing he looked down at his dagger. It held a simple design meant more for efficiency than aesthetic. It was made of metal and its balance was just so that holding it in his hand felt as natural as breathing. And so he flung it at a tree a ways before him, startled by the melodic sound of his name.

"It's my nerves." He explained to himself. "No danger."

But his name came again, as if sung by a rather persistent siren. She... no, he realized, he sang his name and added a few lyrics on past it as if with a message catered only to him. And so, with his heart pounding heavily in his chest, Val made his way past Salome, past the campfire, past Earnest and into the woods. His initial purpose was to retrieve his dagger from the tree it had pierced and that he did. However the song was like a spell of its own meant only to enchant him. Only him.

"Valren..." It called.

He frowned, hesitating on whether or not he should answer the call. He had good instincts of his own after all. Living with his disturbed family had honed his skills in terms of telling the intentions behind someone's actions. And strangely enough, he felt no hostility in the song. He felt no consolation. No anger. No nothing. It was a refreshing emptiness he had craved since who knows when. A meaningless sound meant only to please the ear and nothing more.

"A strong soul of mindful sing-song! Valren! Oh! Valren the worthy!"

It was more than he had ever wanted. "Call me Val."

His determination to reach the source of the melody grew with each step he took, as if enchanted though not really. He pushed branches aside, sidestepped twigs and upturned roots, he wanted no noise not for the sake of stealth but rather to better hear the music.

"A kind soul! One of a kind!" it went on. "Val! Oh! Val the worthy!"

Realizing it had complied with his request he went on to ask: "Where are you? I cannot find you."

But the singer did not answer his question. Going on with the rather upbeat melody that spoke of a strong and gentle hero. A hero Val didn't believe he could be. Still, he continued his search until eventually he found the source within a clearing.

It was a violin made up of what appeared to be red glass, its strings glittered gold against the moonlight cast upon the instrument. And someone was playing it.

He was an enourmous man with skin the color of leather and hair as black as the night sky, styled back and away from his handsome face. He had a beard long enough for it to afford being braided. He was fat and had pot belly that could put any drunkard's to shame, however his musculature was not to be ignore. Every inch of him was corded with muscle. As for his eyes, they were an odd mixture of green and blue and they shone with a warmth so deep there was no way he could ever be a foe. He wore sandals, brown pantaloons, and a white shirt folded past the elbows beneath a yellow vest. Needless to mention the man stood at around nine feet tall.

The man sang: "A strong soul of mindful sing-song! Val! Oh! Val the worthy! A kind soul! One of a kind! Val Oh! Val the worthy!"

"I have found you."

The moment he said those words the song was cut off only to be replaced by a silence so deafening it made Val feel lonely.

He set down the bow and grinned. "As I knew you would, worthy one."

"Who are you?" Val kept his distance at the border of the clearing, inconspicuously holding on to his daggers. "How do you know of me and what do you want from me?"

"I am not a who but a what. Rather I am but an instrument."

"I do not follow."

"Do you believe in gods?"

"I have lived a life surrounded by those wretches." He all but spat. "I can only pray for the mercy of ignorance."

".... so you do."

He nodded.

"Gods are essentially made up of intermingled divinity and soul... as you may very well know. However demigods..."

"Demigods are mortals personally chosen by the gods to transcend their human status. Half mortal half god. I know." He assessed the man's appearance. "So what are you?"

"Pirvalin, demigod of song had his divinity torn away in a hasty, though failed, attempt to preserve his life." He put a hand to his chest. "I am that very divinity."

"Does that make you a god then?"

"I am unlike the gods for I have neither soul nor mind nor sentiment. I am pure unadulterated divinity." He stared down at the violin in his hand. "Things such as I are but instruments meant to be passed down onto those who are worthy."

"And what are you doing here without a god to deliver you?"

"In his haste, the god who tore me out of his brother and unto this here violin, cast me out onto the mortal realm."

For the second time, Val's eyes drifted back to the violin. "You called out to me... called me worthy even."

"That I did."

"What is your purpose with me?"

"The god who cast me out was not entirely careless. He cast me out with the promise that only someone as worthy of me as Pirvalin once was would once again make use of me."

"You wish to make me a demigod then."

"This world has been without song for far too long."

"There is no god here to deliver you to me."

"And yet I stand before someone worthy to be one."

"What makes you think I am so?"

"I do not think. I have no mind. I simply know."

"How do you know then?"

"Fate brought you and your friends within my range of sight. I saw you and saw a soul worth serving. Fate tore me out of Pirvalin and cast me onto this clearing. Fate brought you here. Fate and I deem you worthy and that is a judgement no man can ever hope to undo."

He remained silent for a moment before finally stepping into the clearing. "I do not think I am ready to be a demigod just yet."

"It is a rather permanent commitment."

"Like marriage... and I'm not even married yet."

"Yet? You plan to marry?"

He thought about it for a moment. "No... I don't think I'm ready for that either."

"Val... you're single."

Once again the two grew quiet for a rather long time before Val finally asked:

"So how do you plan on turning me into a demigod?"

He tossed the violin at him. "I am within that very instrument—"

"An instrument within an instrument. How meta."

"—shut up. Once you play that violin I will be yours to wield and you shall be a demigod. However, pay heed, if another party were to play said instrument they themselves would cease to exist."

"Well that's a bit—"

"I leave myself in your hands."

And so the nine foot tall man vanished, fading until there was nothing more than moonlight left behind. All the while Val stared down at the violin in his hand frowning.

"I don't even know how to play this stupid thing."


	23. —Fated Encounters—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Before anyone asks: no, violins do not exist in this particular novel as they are one of Haravac's recent inventions.

"I believe we are close to our destination." Said Salome, her voice even.

"And what pray tell is our destination?" 

She cast Earnest a tired glare. "I do not know."

"Then how do you know we're halfway there then?"

She shrugged. "It's a feeling I have. Like there's someone we're meant to meet."

"You know, it's stupid things like that that get you killed. No wonder I managed to kill you without even trying."

Val watched as Earnest, the stout short guy meant to teach him arms, dodged yet another one of Salome's kicks before ultimately shoving her to the ground. The grumpy assassin then sighed as he continued walking on past, mumbling out:

"... least she's improving."

Val adjusted his bag over his shoulder, making sure the violin wouldn't somehow fall off it in the process, before rushing over to help his sister stand back up. 

It had been almost a month since they had reached the south eastern border before their encounter with Ilema which was followed after by Salome's rather random urge to go to the south west. Given the things that had happened neither the "reformed" assassin or Val himself objected to following her. After all Ilema could be behind Salome's sudden sense of direction.

At the moment they were walking uphill gazing at the crest as their tired feet trudged upon the yellow dirt road. There was a slight breeze going about, swaying the weeds and trees that filled the expansive land all around them. There were no clouds in the sky and the sun itself seemed to have a knack for prickling people's skin with its intense gaze. 

She took his hand, once again staring at the violin peeking out of his bag and over his shoulder. "Since when do you carry weird weapons around?"

"This is not a weapon."

"What is it then?"

"It's called a violin."

She lifted a brow. "What's it do?"

"Dunno. Some fat guy gave it to me."

"And you, you just took it?"

He shrugged a shoulder, nodding. "Why not? I can totally use it to smack that flea around."

Knowing full well they were talking about him, Earnest turned to glare at the siblings. "This flea killed your sister, need I remind you?"

"I highly doubt you realize just how many times you've held that over our heads for the past few weeks." He sighed.

"It's like a goddamn mantra for you." Salome also sighed. 

"Last night I dreamed he was singing it."

"You too?!" 

"You dreamt it too?!"

"Yeah! He wouldn't stop singing no matter how many times I slit his neck!"

"By the gods! That was my exact same dream!"

"I sang you two idiots to sleep and that's the thanks I get?" Earnest turned around grumbling furthermore about ungrateful brats and whatnot.

Or so was his plan before his face hit a solid surface, forcing him to stumble back rubbing his nose as he then glared up at who dared stumble upon the nation's greatest assassin.

Staring down at him was a tall man with a quirked brow and deep set dark eyes. The shadow of ever growing stubble darkened the lower half of his face slightly though not enough to hide the hollowness of his cheeks and the sharpness of his cheekbones. The sides of his mouth appeared to curl as if he were struggling to hide a smile. He wore a white shirt within gray vest and dark pantaloons as well as buckled black boots. His hair which had once been combed back now looked like a total mess which came as no surprise given how he had an infant sitting on his shoulders.

Atop his shoulders was a girl no more than ten years old sporting an oversized dark blue coat with silver buttons which glittered against the light. And atop that girl's head were a pair of horns that curled into each other near the ends. She had dark hair and golden colored eyes as well a fistful of hair in each fist. 

Beside him was a rather dainty woman, fair and angelic. She had long gray hair and eyes the color of amethysts, rosy cheeks and plump lips. She wore a faded yellow dress and brown shoes.

And beside her was her exact opposite. She had short brown hair and brown eyes and golden hoop earrings. She had sharp features, an elongated nose, and an unforgiving gleam in her eyes. 

"I didn't realize trolls were still in existence." Elenora glanced at Haravac. "Did you?"

Haravac stared down at Earnest with a lifted brow, taking in the assassin's appearance. The man was at most four feet and eleven inches tall and well muscled in spite of his stout figure. A scar elongated the right side of his thin mouth while a pair of golden rings dangled from his ears. He wore a yellowing shirt and faded gray pantaloons as well as leather boots. A sword clung to his right hip while a pair of daggers clung from the brown leather strap that held the quiver in place over his back. Looking over his shoulder he saw that the dark haired girl behind him held the man's bow. 

"Who may you be?" He asked finally.

"I am Earnest Clearwater," he openly glared at Elenora before turning his attention back to Haravac. 

"And those two over there?" Though he asked about the two siblings his eyes were completely stuck on Salome.

"They're my students."

"Uh-huh," he released the suitcases he held in his hands before removing the girl from his shoulders, rolling them once he was relieved of the weight. 

Figuring he was going to do something both unexpected and uncalled for, Aelly simply took Erebus from him and watched as he descended the hill, stepping past a befuddled assassin. His eyes were locked in on Salome and her features. How unnatural they appeared to him. 

She was fair and tall and beautiful. She had a straight nose with a slight bump on its bridge, a soft jawline, and enormous eyes the color of coal. She had an oval face and the disposition of an esteemed royal, a lilac colored dress and brown hair combed up into a chignon. However these features weren't what caught his attention.

It was the brown hair and the pitch black eyes. As a god of elements he knew well and good the difference between hair dye and magically altered hair. Even her eyes, he noted, appeared to have been trifled with. 

Still before he could reach her a dagger graced his neck as a pair of hazel eyes glared into his. He was a few inches shorter than him though just as strong as Aelly, he suspected. His golden hair was held back by a leather band though a few baby hairs had managed to curl away from the stronghold thanks to his sweat and the incessant breeze going on by. He looked similar to —who he assumed was— his sister, though where she was soft and graceful he was sharp and surly. Huge hazel eyes, a square jaw, a straight nose, and a sharp facial structure. Had he called himself her fraternal twin Haravac wouldn't have hesitated to believe him. The man wore brown pantaloons, black buckled shoes, and a partially unbuttoned shirt. For some reason he had a blue cloth tied to his neck while bag straps latched on to his shoulders. Haravac noticed a familiar stick poking out of the bag but was too preoccupied with not only the dagger aimed at his neck but also the bow poking at his forehead.

"One more step," Val's voice held an even tone. "I dare you."

"I mean no harm...."

"Valren."

"I simply meant to help your sister fix herself."

"Excuse me?!" Salome all but gasped. 

"This guy..." Elenora mumbled as she partially hid her face behind her hand. 

"He is going to get us killed." Aelly sighed.

Erebus sighed as she then signed: "Idiot."

Val resisted the urge to laugh. "I don't think that's something a common man can do sir."

"Valren!!"

"I agree." Haravac grinned at him before looking at Salome once more, giving her a once over. "One cannot hope to fix perfection."

"What?" Val made a face. "But you just—"

"I misspoke." He took a step back allowing for both siblings to pull away their weapons. "What I meant is that her dark hair and eyes appear to have been supernaturally altered. I simply wanted to undo the alteration... With your consent, of course."

Salome and Val shared a glance before she finally asked: "How do you know my features have been altered?"

"I am someone who's deeply connected to the gods." He lied. 

A good distance away, Elenora mumbled: "Yeah.... they shoved a foot up our ass." 

"What?" Earnest looked up at her. 

"What?"

"You said something just now."

"Yeah. Do you need to know everything I say?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes."

She lifted a brow. "How are your needs relevant, oaf?"

"The same way yours are, witch."

Aelly sighed as she then made her way down the hill, past the bickering pair. All the while wondering how nobody noticed that she was carrying a child with horns on her head. Then again everyone had more important things to worry about.

Like an entire troop of paladins headed their way.


	24. —The Enemy—

Aelly observed the incoming enemy with an all knowing eye as she then instructed Erebus to go to Elenora's side. She then told the child that if worse came to worst (which she'd make sure it wouldn't) that she was to turn into a dragon and fly as far away as she could. 

There couldn't have been more than a hundred paladins, all in five rows. They wore their red cloaks and black sashes, their swords hung from their hips—though a few at the front appeared to be archers. The hem of their brown robes had been dirtied and colored by the very weeds they endlessly stomped on, though that minute detail was hard to spot at the moment. Leading them and mounted on a white horse was father Orandi. 

The man looked a whole awful lot kinder than he actually was. He was tall and chubby, rosy cheeked, and held all sorts of laugh lines to his face. When the man smiled and laughed the tip of his nose would redden and his belly would shake as he'd then scratch at his powder white beard. It all painted a sweet picture up until you noticed he'd been laughing at the decapitated corpses of suspected magic users.

Haravac and the others wasted no time in herding themselves out of harm's way.

However, when Haravac noticed Aelly still standing in the middle of the road he rushed to her, grabbing her by the arm.

"We must leave!"

She shook his arm off, brown eyes dead set on Orandi. 

"Aelly don't..."

It was then that he noticed she was shaking and far too emotional to form a coherent sentence. He recognized the look in her eye as one of infinite reaction. Reaction to a hurt only those who lost something precious at war would understand. Usually that reaction was either an endless array of fear or an absolute desire for vengeance and at the moment, Haravac had no idea which reaction he was witnessing. 

Sighing he then proceeded to weave a sword for his dearest friend as fast as he could. All the while he watched as the enemy approached ever so steadily.

"Here," he handed her the sword. "It's sharp and strong."

She took it, though didn't bother to look at it. Not that it was much to look at. 

"Be sure to survive."

She nodded.

With that out of the way, Haravac quickly rushed to the others. Taking a weeping Erebus in his arms as he resisted the urge to look back. He knew she was strong and swift enough to withstand anything, he knew and trusted that knowledge. Still, he knew that if he turned to look at her he'd wind up fighting with her and after all, this wasn't a battle he should engage in. This was entirely hers. 

And so, the group of six ran as far away as they could before Haravac enacted a concealment spell once he was sure they were well out of reach.

Meanwhile, Aelly raised her sword and ran toward the enemy.


	25. —The Bloody Mark—

"Oh shit." Orandi muttered as soon as he recognized the person running toward them. 

With a flick of his wrist he instructed for his archers to shoot and so they did. The man then leaned back and watched as arrow after arrow pierced her body.

At first she had deflected the arrows with the blunt side of her sword however that didn't take into account the other airborne arrows coming her way. Several went through her thighs and knees, forcing her to fall though not in time to avoid several other arrows from piercing her chest, gut, throat, and head. Once her body struck the ground, blood began to pool all around her though before the soil became fully drenched in it Orandi directed his horse to step on her corpse as he and his paladins then proceeded to walk onward.

Or so was the idea before Ilema's mark lit up on her wrist. The light that emanated from her wrist seemed to have the intention to challenge the very sunlight; it's glare momentarily blinding the startled men and scaring the horse Orandi had been mounting. He fell on his back and grunted before quickly scrambling to his feet, spinning around in time to see the very bandit he had stepped on standing on her feet.

He watched as she removed the arrows from her body one by one as if they were nothing more than irksome thorns. Not a single witness knew what to do in this situation. They've never witnessed a deceased person resurrect before. So they stood, mouths wide open and eyes peeled as she proceeded to heal herself, sealing up wounds and repairing broken ribs as if it were just another Tuesday.

"W—what are you waiting for?!" Orandi snapped, aiming a finger at her. "At her! Again!"

She screamed before anyone could do anything. Tears streaming down her blood soaked face as she then hugged herself, weeping ever so loudly as she desperately reached out for her sword. Before any of the archers could pull back their arrows she picked up her sword and swept back her hair with her trembling fingers before drying her tears. 

They shot at her again, however this time around she showed no signs of mortality. She charged onward and with a swift swipe of her sword decapitated every archer she saw. It took her no time at all to murder the swordsmen and so eventually she found herself standing before Orandi.

"You evil wretch!" He screeched. "Murderers have no place in the heavens!! You know this!"

"Did that ever stop you?"

Before he could answer, she drove her sword through his sternum. She held his head just so his eyes never left hers. Just so he saw just who was ending his pathetic little life. 

"Murderer..."

"Touché."

She then pulled her sword upward, slicing him further, before kicking his body to the ground. She then proceeded to pull out the few arrows that had managed to pierce her chest and forehead, dropping them to the ground once she was done. Afterwards she cleaned her sword before proceeding to observe her reflection in it.

"He made a sword but no shield?" She set down the sword. "Fucking idiot."


	26. —Back at the Bridge Babey—

When Aelly returned to her party she returned just in time to witness Haravac placing a hand on Salome's head. Her eyes were closed so she didn't see everyone else's reactions when her hair went from dark brown back to its natural blonde. And when her eyes opened they were no longer pitch black but their natural sapphire blue. As if by consequence of the new color scheme, her cheeks appeared to be rosier and her skin no longer held a ghastly tone to it. This all happened within seconds, giving Aelly barely enough time to understand just what she had witnessed. Though it didn't take her to long to recover given how she already knew she was walking among gods.

If Salome's sudden physical change didn't startle anyone then Aelly's appearance sure did. They all wondered how Aelly single handedly fought off an entire troop of paladins without... well, dying. When questioned on how she even survived that suicide mission she simply pointed to her mark and said:

"Maybe it gave me special powers?"

"You're unkillable now?" Haravac lifted a brow. 

She shrugged a shoulder. "Lucky me I guess, since you all wanted me to die."

"It's not that we wanted you to—"

"Then why did nobody stop me?" She cut off Elenora. "Haravac didn't even give me a shield. All I got from him was this stupid aluminum sword!"

"First of all you're the one who chose to get herself killed." Haravac held up a second finger. "Secondly, I tried to pull you away and stop you but you wouldn't budge. And third I wasn't going to waste my time preserving the life of someone who clearly has no sense of self preservation."

"Who cares?!" Earnest butted in. "Point is, we're all safe and fine and we're good to go! Let's drop it and get a move on. It's about time we went our separate ways."

Aelly stared down at the assassin. "No offense, but I forgot you three even existed." 

Earnest frowned. "You four—minus the little one there— are on thin fucking ice. One more disrespectful remark and I'll—"

"What?" She lifted a brow. "Kill me?"

"Death isn't everything."

"It is if you haven't had a chance to live at all."

That gave him pause. He had no rebuttal. 

"If we're done being philosophical," Salome sighed "then can we go now?"

Aelly nodded, taking a step away from Earnest before proceeding to reach out to Erebus. She fully expected the child to jump into her arms, however that did not happen. Instead, the girl flinched back as if startled and proceeded to hide behind Haravac.

"What did you expect? You just massacred a bunch of guys." Haravac reasoned.

That may have been a good enough excuse however, Erebus' strange behaviour continued throughout their trip back to the South-East. When further questioned the child appeared to have little to no reasonable answer. 

"It doesn't feel the same." She had once written to Haravac one night. 

In turn Harry nodded and burned the paper, saying nothing. Instructing her to say nothing.

Haravac and the others had originally expected to part ways with the small group of travelers they had encountered however Salome insisted she and the others join them. When asked why, she offered little to no explanation—not that she needed much of any given how Aelly quickly jumped to her defense and wound up convincing the rest of the group to allow it. And so what had once been four travelers now became seven. Which as it turned out became a blessing in disguise for Erebus or, as everyone else soon nicknamed her: Eri. Now Eri had an easier time avoiding Aelly without it looking too obvious; constantly running to Harry's arms, holding onto Elenora's hand, racing with Val and Salome, learning sign language from Earnest (who suprisingly used to be a paladin before he renounced Elnes). Aelly also taught her a few words here and there however Erebus' refusal to even look at her made things difficult. Well... never mind. The girl was making it hard not to notice she was avoiding Aelly.

It was during this strange situation that they all made their way toward the South East, traversing the small town in which Ilema had marked Aelly for all to see, and seeking out the border Haravac had no trouble finding.

They made their way across the old bridge, all to wary of just how old and creaky it was and just how fast the river's current appeared to be. Scratch that, just how deep and powerful the body of water actually was. Mind you the bridge was half burnt due to the fact that Aelly used to live beneath it before Erebus burned everything to a crisp per her ignorant command. 

Frightened by just how unstable the bridge appeared to be, Eri turned herself back into a dragon and flew across the river, all the while holding Haravac's forearms with her talons. 

Once the majority of them were at the crest of the bridge it collapsed and all five of them fell through screaming for at least ten seconds before they were completely submerged underwater.


	27. —The Death Whisperer—

Silas watched from the woods as the group of idiots fell into the river screaming bloody murder. He leaned against the tree nearest him, arms crossed and brow quirked north. He wore his black hair in a loose braid allowing for loose curls to tangle about. Mourning dust covered his lips and eyelids, bringing forth a golden luminescence that perfectly matched his brown skin's undertones. The man wore a white coat with golden embroidery as well as diamond cuff links atop a plain white shirt and dark pantaloons. His buckled black leather shoes winked back the dimming sunlight as he set one ankle over the other, fully leaning into the tree as he chewed on a random dried weed he'd come across earlier.

He watched as the infantile dragon rushed to save everyone from getting further dragged into the current while the one dry man remained still, worrying more about his staff than anything. At first he found it odd how he wasn't in a state of utmost panic and decided to keep his distance just in case. He watched as Haravac busied himself with his five foot tall staff; removing dirt from its leather handle and it butt, peeling off splinters here and there, whispering to himself the whole while. And then before Silas had a chance to even react, Haravac spun around and threw the staff his way as if it were a spear.

Without even thinking twice, Silas caught the staff mere inches from his face. However what he didn't count on was the instant shock that ran through his body the moment he touched it. He fell to the ground, grunting and stiff, as he fought to force his hand to release the damned stick. Of course he failed. Points to him for trying though.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Came a female voice as a shadow cast itself over him.

"I'd say he's probably a chancellor of some kind." Haravac stated as he pried his staff from his hand. "Why, just look at that tasteless finery." 

"You're one to talk, mantis."

Haravac turned to look over his shoulder in time to see Val wringing his hair dry. "At least I don't look like I came straight out of a funeral."

"Yeah? Well if I were wearing that outfit I'd probably—did you kill that guy?!"

"Talk about whiplash." Haravac grumbled as he turned to look down at the twitching spy. "Nah, he'll be fine in three hours."

What do you mean three hours?! Silas spat out the telepathic message, straining his neck. 

If he was surprised by the telepathic message he didn't show it. "I mean three hours, Sir Context-Clues."

Then you better get a good head start and hide or else you'll die by my hand.

Haravac turned to look at Elenora then, saying: "You and your witches sure think highly of yourselves."

She grinned. "There's a good reason for that, darling."

"Debatable." He grinned as he then returned his attention to the group behind him. "Nobody drowned right?"

"All alive and accounted for." Salome replied as she walked past her brother as she then grumbled: "Physically at least...."

"If that was your attempt at stealth sonny," Earnest gave Silas a pitying stare as he and the others walked over his body and onward. "Then you need a better vocation. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

I will kill you the slowest! 

Or so Silas meant to send to Earnest's head only to discover that the man was too much of a literal blockhead to even receive said message. And so, Silas, Zakaria's star pupil remained shocked to the ground for three and a half hours. Had Haravac not shocked him so, he and his entourage would've known that Zakaria awaited them at the palace and had sent Silas specifically to escort them. But alas.... 

So be it, Silas thought through gritted teeth, let those idiots get lost inside this stupid forest for all I care. This is what I get for acting like an errand boy!

******** 5 hours later *********

As luck would have it, the very god who created the terrain they now tread upon didn't get lost. Not one of the monstrous creatures they encountered even dared to attack him or his companions given how they regarded him as their creator. It was all too easy.

It even made Haravac wonder just why Zakaria would even bother sending an escort knowing full well he was the very creator of the land. He wouldn't have attacked the young magician if he hadn't noticed the mourning dust coating his features. It would be one thing for that dust to lie upon his eyelids only, but it also covered his lips which indicated only one thing:

The boy he had just attacked knew how to utter death spells. Spells he probably knew how to enact with his eyes as well... though that's a speculation he's yet to verify. Sure, Elenora was the one who created said death spells long ago while trying to settle a bet with him but to think a mere human witch may have stumbled across said spells and perfected them at that... it intrigued him. 

It wouldn't have been too much of an issue to act oblivious, maybe even trick him for his benefit, but due to the current situation they were all in he didn't feel it to be worthwhile. He couldn't afford to make yet another careless mistake like he did with Aelly by completely forgetting to give her a shield. One thing he hated about himself was just how badly his nerves affected his judgement. He simply couldn't take any chances and after all, he had figured that that so called escort was there for him rather than anyone else. He was probably there to contain him in case things got too testy for Zakaria. Who knows? Maybe he was there to help send him back into his decrepit tower.

Either way, attacking him was the best decision he could conjure up at the moment.

"It's been five hours." Elenora said beside him.

He nodded.

"Do you think the witch will pose a threat?"

"He's young and over-confident," Earnest said behind her. "My judgement is that the chit is a danger to himself more so than to anyone else."

Aelly and Salome nodded in agreement while Val adjusted his bag. 

"I don't think he's a bad guy." Eri signed to Haravac upon catching up to him; she had long since morphed back into her human form. Apparently she was a fast learner when it came down to sign language.

"Me neither." Haravac held out his hand for her to hold. "But sometimes good people do bad things thinking they're doing good."

"That's confusing." She made a face.

He grinned down at her nodding. "People are very confusing aren't they?"

"No." She shook her head. "Just you."

He let out a small laugh as he then returned his sights on the small narrow dirt road before him. "So, Earnest?"

"Aye?"

"How would you block a death spell?"

"By not dying."

He grinned. "Sounds about right."

"Why do you ask?"

"I think a certain witch took your constructive criticism to heart." He looked at him from over his shoulder. "So it's only fair you taught him another lesson, no?"

As if summoned by Haravac's teasing words, Silas came from among the trees to the right, riding atop what used to be Haravac's old staff. His deadly intent permeated the air so thickly it made Eri's arm hairs stand on end as he came to a stop before them. 

He glared at the seven before settling his eyes on Haravac who in turn let go of Eris's hand, gently pushing her behind him as he moved forward. Not entirely ready to die but rather, ready to trick the youth.

He wasn't a trickster god for nothing, after all.


	28. —Orisa the Seer—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: There will be descriptions of a murder.

She sat on the throne staring down at the body of what had once been the Leviannon empire's emperor: Arthur Jackson. Creating the coup wasn't an overwhelmingly complicated process. For one: the church had grown tired of the blasphemer's shackles. Secondly: the nobility yearned for a chance to up their already high ranks. Thirdly: the common folk no longer believed Arthur to be the savior of the empire but rather a fraud. All they needed was for someone heaven sent to ease their worries and manipulate them into action against a leader whose retirement was long overdue. Who better than an innocent church slave directly descended from a clairvoyant bloodline?

She wore a lavender colored dress with glittering blue embroidery along the skirts and bodice. An array of blue jewels clung to her neck and ears making her all the more worth the double take. Dark blue heeled boots remained hidden beneath the skirts as she set one knee atop the other before settling her elbow at the throne's arm only to then rest her cheek agains her fist. Her black tresses spilled to the side, allowing for a few strands to poke at her dark brown skin

"You really were chosen by a god." Her red eyes sparkled just a bit. "Yet you were never the star he spoke of."

"Your majesty?"

She looked up in time to see father Wells side step the body while the others, clergymen and nobility alike, lingered behind forming a rather irksome crowd.

"What is it Horace?"

Her words gave him pause. Nobody outside the church knew his name save for his direct relatives. "I simply wished to ask what your name was."

She nodded to herself before pushing herself off the chair.

"From now on, refrain from addressing me as a royal. I am no empress." She stared at the crowd standing behind Father Wells. "Not while those two are alive and well."

"Worry not!" Said Duke Travis, a man with military powers that rivaled those of the former royals. "We will dispose of them in no time! All in the name of—"

"Times sure are changing," she sighed. "I remember there was a time when only the worthiest of the worthy were allowed within the palace let alone on the throne. Now.... Now we seek anyone competent enough to keep us afloat regardless of the will of the gods."

"Gods?" a noblewoman asked, puzzled.

"Yes, gods." She smiled to herself. "They used to be prominent within the Holy Book of All but once it was renamed as the Book of Leviannon... well, a lot of things have been redacted."

A silence permeated the hall before Father Wells cleared his throat.

"But what is the name of our soon to be Empress?"

"Orisa. My name is Orisa and I command you, as your empress to be, to remove any and all obstacles standing in the way of this empire's future wellness." She then paused before a smile overcame her gentle features. "By Elnes above!"

"By Elnes above!" They echoed before promptly leaving, leaving the disposal of Arthur's corpse to the discretion of the newly hired staff (seeing as the staff, including the knights, had all been killed during the coup).

And as she watched the maids struggle to mop up the blood, Orisa sighed, heavily abstaining from whistling her husband's favorite tune as she then muttered under her breath:

"I hope he's not wrong about this...."


	29. —Vow of Silence—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: There will be mentions of suicide!

"Are you here to make good on your promise to kill us?"

No response whatsoever.

Haravac stared up at the witch grinning, completely unbothered by his lack of civil cooperation. If his guess was correct (and it usually was) then the witch must've taken a vow of silence so as to present himself as a benevolent death caster before the magic user society. He himself never cared for such niceties but then again Zakaria was someone who fretted over every single loose thread, unimportant as it was.

"Did you know, young warlock, that telepathic communication violates your vows? I should know. I am the reason said vows are in place." He began to recite: "'For my spoken transgression I hold full responsibility and in my silence I hold the peace both outward and inward.' Methinks they meant it all quite literally."

"You've taken a vow of silence?!" Elenora couldn't help but be shocked.

"Well I did use one of your death spells to lead an entire battalion to suicide."

"Zakaria didn't like that did he?"

"Of course he didn't. The guy's a total stiff."

"If you took a vow of silence then why aren't you honoring it?" Val asked from behind. "Aren't all vows meant to be honored?"

"Bah!" Haravac waved him off. "Who cares?"

"Well I do," Val looked at the people surrounding him. "Did no one else take a loyalty vow as a kid?"

"Do I look like I'd take such a vow?" Earnest lifted a brow at him.

"I think we're getting off track." Aelly sighed, aiming a finger at the death caster before them. "He's still in our way."

"I am in no one's way." the witch signed. "If anything I am the way."

"The humility is strong in this one." Haravac mumbled to himself, grinning. "Did Zakaria send you?"

He nodded.

"May I know my escort's name?"

"My name is Silas."

"No surname?" He intentionally added a mocking tone to his voice. "Well?"

Though he tried to hide his embarrassment, his shoulders still drooped and the sides of his lips fell south. He raised his hands once more, asking: "Does it matter?"

"So he not only sent a death witch as my escort, but a peasant at that?!"

"I am his majesty's most trusted—"

"You're just a peasant boy without a penny to his name." He gestured at his staff. "My staff is far more worthy than your common blood." 

"Maybe so." He gritted his teeth as he continued to express: "But my common blood never stopped me from being honorable. Not that you would know what that is."

"Honor?" He rolled his eyes. "When that so called honor shackles you to a never ending fealty to a person or empire then it deserves to be stomped upon. Honor is not meant to shackle but to freely enact."

"What are you insinuating?"

"I don't have the time to insinuate." He spat. "You may wear finery and silk ties but beneath it all you're nothing more than an errand boy who lost the privilege to speak.... and all because the little witch thought honor would erase his peasant roots."

"Haravac..." Elenora muttered beside him. "What are you—?"

He ignored her and extended his arm, hand open, eyes dead set on the staff Silas stood upon. "Now stop dirtying my magic stick!" And with that, the staff moved toward his open hand so fast it barely gave Silas any time to react well enough as he flipped and landed on his knees so hard they almost gave way when he stood back up. 

"Just who does he think I am?!" Haravac thundered, smashing the butt of his staff to the ground. "I am the one who forged the land he now rules over! I am the god he grew to fear and hate! I am worthy of more than a peasant scum!"

"Haravac you go too far. Stop provoking him." Val placed a hand to his shoulder only to have him shake it off.

"Not far enough." He snapped. "Look at that trash! He's so tacky he couldn't wait to use that ridiculous outfit and go spy on us! Did you think I wouldn't notice your glittering jewels in the middle of the bloody night you stupid pe—?!"

"Enough!!" Silas moved toward him, glowering. "You aren't worth the emperor's attentions! I've learned about you from his majesty! You may have been his mentor but you are nothing more than a blood-thirsty psychopath who claimed to be a benevolent ruler and then kept killing people left and right for fun. And—and what kind of idiot declares war on the gods?"

"Well," Haravac grinned. "Do you think he'd want you back in his court after you just violated your vow of silence?" 

Silas' eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. He took a step back as he covered his lips. "You tricked me."

"Death witches aren't at all popular these days." He tossed his staff to him. "Keep it and stay out of our way. Believe me, you'll need it."

"What was your purpose?" He gripped the staff. "Why did you want me to break the vow?! What could you possibly gain from ruining my life?!"

"Nothing." He sighed. "I just hate that stupid vow."


	30. —The Observers—

Silas muttered, using the language native to the underworld: "Within nature and beyond reason I speak. I ask thee to disobey time and sound; bring forth eternal silence and abstain another beat."

The spell made its way to Haravac before its dark tendrils wrapped around his chest, seeking out pores to seep through. Upon finding them the tendrils all but disappeared leaving behind a startled gasp from their victim as he fell to the ground clutching his heart. 

"Harry!" Aelly called out.

Eri tried to help him stand only have him glare at her as he signed for her to keep her distance. 

"I am fine." He assured her. "You trust me, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Then get out of his sight. Now."

That was all he needed to say for her to rush on past him and into the safety of the trees. But not before Silas cast his own spell upon her:

"Within purpose and beyond will I speak: harbinger of death do as you were originally designed."

She heard him loud and clear and hoped that the distance between them lessened the strength of the all too familiar spell. And so she continued running further into the wood, aimlessly and desperately, almost as if fleeing from her own inevitable transformation. 

Her horns grew, elongating, as her hands morphed into sharp talons. Two skeletal wings and a tail tore themselves free from the confines of her flesh, spraying blood in their wake, pulling a grunt out of her as she stumbled from the pain. Still she regained her footing and went on, shoving tree branches from her path as her limbs gained muscle and weighted her onto the ground urging her to run on all fours as her skin changed, becoming leathery and pitch black. Her body elongated as her wings gained nerve and muscle and feather. Her face elongated into that of a dragon and her teeth grew, sharpening at the ends as her tongue slimmed and elongated, forking at the end as she opened her mouth to let out a pained scream only to release white and blue flame, turning her surroundings to ash as her roar echoed all about. 

As if drawn in by her mighty roar, a herd of ferocious beasts came to her. They had white shaggy fur and apertures for ears that somehow connected to their lip-less salivating jaws. Elongated fangs protruded from their bare snouts while crooked canines snapped into one another as the ghastly creatures awaited their feast. They had round black eyes which made up for a quarter of their odd faces, their eyelids were diagonal rather than horizontal though they barely even bothered to blink thanks to the mucus that covered their eyeballs. They had long tails as powerful as the rest of their limbs which were barren of fur, leaving their flexible claws out in the open. Claws which were as long and as sharp as any other battle axe. The creatures had long necks and powerful bodies; though they were on the slender side and their bones poked at their flesh their strength was one that rivaled even the mightiest of dragons. When Haravac first created them he made them with the purpose of protecting all magic users and avoiding human flesh unless absolutely necessary. Which is why, upon their conception Haravac named the species: the Observers. 

Though as powerful and as hungry as they were, they also knew when to strike just as well they knew better than to incur their creator's wrath for the dragon they had surrounded was under his current blessing. Which is why upon surrounding her the creatures stopped within ten feet of her and sat on their hind legs, arms folded ever so neatly they disappeared within their fur as they waited and watched. They snapped their teeth and salivated, letting out their odd song every now and then, encouraging each other to wait a bit more. 

Being one of Haravac's smartest creations also meant he kept a close eye on them in case they misbehaved. He's been keeping watch on them since their dawn which in turn meant that they could sense his awareness, strong and unwavering as it usually was. Usually. They could sense his awareness dwindling more and more with each second which more than likely meant that his stronghold on them would shatter. Which meant that they could do as they please with little to no consequence for as long as their creator remained unconscious. And that could mean anything. 

For now, it meant a quick dinner. 

Meanwhile, Elenora looked over her shoulder and glared at the angry death witch behind them. She held no discernible expression though if one were to look closer into her violet eyes, one would come to realize she was absolutely impressed. 

"That command spell," she turned to him, furrowing a brow. "It is unlike anything I've ever heard."

Silas grinned upon seeing Haravac fall face first to the ground, his complexion becoming whiter by the second. "Are you sure you should be focusing on—"

An arrow whistled past his temple, startling him and causing him to move slightly to the right. Looking beside her he saw Earnest aiming a second arrow his way. 

"That was a warning shot pretty-boy." The archer said. "Either you undo your spells or I kill you and undo them myself."

"Undo?" Silas grinned. "You are nothing more than a dirty repurposed criminal."

Without a second's hesitation Val tossed a dagger his way. This time however, Silas was prepared and promptly jumped out of the way. Looking back, he saw that the dagger had landed on the hardened soil, all the way to the hilt. And though he may have been prepared for that particular attack he had no way of guessing just how witty Val was at warfare.

Val, fully expecting him to dodge his dagger, had calculated two possible alternate target points and so, upon seeing Silas jump onto one of the two didn't waste any time in tossing a second dagger. This time around his dagger landed on its intended target. His intention wasn't to kill but rather to intimidate which is why the dagger landed on Silas' left shoulder, right at the joint. 

"For someone we just met," he cast him an icy glare. "You sure do know an awful lot about us."

Salome stood behind Aelly as she pulled out her sword, ready to fight in case things got out of hand.

"You are more than a death witch, aren't you?" Elenora took a step in his direction. 

"I am." Grinned Silas taking a step back as he braced his injures shoulder. "I am a peasant boy who overcame his awful circumstances and rose to the top! I became the emperor's most trusted adviser without need for precious blue blood and fancy blabber! I sinned a long time ago and for that I took a vow of silence. A vow your wretched companion tore from me!"

"He is not a companion." Elenora clarified as she continued on walking. "He is my family. Make no mistake, I understand your anger and why you aimed it at my beloved idiot cousin. However that does not excuse your aiming said anger at an innocent child. Nor does it prevent you from facing the consequences of your own actions."

"Consequences?!" He guffawed. "You are nothing more than a whore with pretty words! What can you—ugh!"

Another dagger implanted itself on his right knee as Val came to stand beside Elenora. "I advise you not to insult women in my presence ever again."

The witch fell to his side as he continued to bleed, turning his white clothes dark red.

"You sure are holding back witch." Elenora commented. "If I were you I would have killed everyone here by now." She paused before going on: "I may be many things but I am no common whore and my words are not always so pretty." She crouched down then and yanked the dagger from his shoulder, completely ignoring his bellow as she then yanked out the second dagger. "Those cute death spells of yours, who do you think created them?"

"Elenora..." He hissed in pain. "Goddess of... influence and deliverance."

She grinned at him then. "Guess my name, punk."

The realization came in moments after she had spoken. Val and the others looked to each other in disbelief meanwhile Aelly sighed at the theatrics. Silas's eyes widened and he aimed a finger at her, opening his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the sound of a thousand hungry Observers.

At long last, they had to wait no more.


	31. —The Hunger—

The child chimera who could morph in and out of her dragon form was no more. Her consciousness was lost and locked away thanks to a simple spell and all that was left behind was a mindless creature with an insatiable hunger. 

For the longest time, the dragon remained on all fours quietly staring back at the Observers, fully aware of just how hungry they were. They saw her as prey and cared little for how much bigger and tougher to kill she was. They were blinded by hunger and as such they failed to see just how hungry the dragon was as well.

The dragon licked her teeth, salivating at the feast to come as she played along with the Observers' game of patience. Once upon a time she was no bigger than two feet and back then she could have been an easy feast for those beasts however, months had flown by taking with them her vulnerability.

The small dragon steadily grew from being one foot tall to being a whopping fifteen feet tall; its body being forty feet in length while eighty feet went from wingtip to wingtip. Funny thing was that she wasn't even half-way done growing. 

Her scales were as tough if not tougher than any metal known to man and her eyes, once soft and golden, burned a bright blood red in the pitch blackness matching well with her fire breathing nostrils and jaws which bobbed open and shut over and over again, never fully closing. The feathers that covered her enormous wings had a gradient of black to gold which in turn made them glimmer in the dim firelight her snout provided, making her appear as if she were made up of flame. Her tail snaked on about behind her, occasionally striking an Observer here and there and piking up dust in its wake giving the impression that her fire breathing was giving way to smoke as her long curved talons dug into the soil.

And then, finally the wait appeared to be over. All of the observers fell forward, back on all fours, before crawling forward at full speed as their bodies moved about as if in a sinister dance. They snapped their jaws loudly as their chirping song reached the heavens in what could only be described as a hellish harmony. 

The dragon meanwhile, drew back her open snout, bending her elongated neck to such an unnatural angle that at first glance it appeared as if she no longer had a head upon her shoulders. Or so was the case for about a second or two before she swung back down, mouth fully agape as an entire column of white hot flame ran out of her throat and roasted thirty or so Observers on the spot. She wasted no time in swallowing the roasted meats her victims left behind and neither did the remaining Observers apparently. For meanwhile the grand majority of them pounced on her, a few of them stayed behind to feast on the remains of their brethren. 

The enormous amount of Observers crawling atop the dragon's body was more than enough to overwhelm her legs, forcing her down as the opportunistic beasts took their chance. They opened their snouts, unhinging their jaw to a humanely impossible degree so as to allow for their already long fangs to elongate three inches further. They angled back their heads before swinging forward, ramming their teeth into her steel-like scales. Shattering them upon contact, crying out subsequently as they promptly pulled back only to have her swift tail strike them off her.

With her tail she managed to lash at them striking them off her as she went on charging forward, trampling on the survivors. With her beak-like snout she took a hold of several Observers and tore them apart, allowing for their entrails to rain upon the disturbed soil as she swallowed their remains piece by bloody piece. She ate Observers, alive or otherwise, burning acre after acre in her wake as she constantly battled the creatures. More. She wanted more. Nothing could end this hunger of hers. Not even the greatest of magic.

It didn't take long for the creatures to realize that they stood no chance at battling her and winning. Which is why, upon realizing this, they gathered themselves and ran as far and as fast as their tired limbs could take them in search for far more easier prey leaving in their wake a frustrated dragon who in turn took to the skies.

Her flames turned the night into day in a matter of seconds as her ferocious roar echoed throughout the atmosphere, reaching all the way to the center of the Levianon empire. Upon hearing the sound from within the palace and sitting atop an ill gained throne Orisa sighed, leaning into her hand. 

"Living in the times of legend sure is something."

The dragon meanwhile made her way further up, her wings carrying her higher and higher until her enormous form was swallowed up by the clouds, safely out of sight. Save for those living in the heavens. But to hide was not her purpose. Rather, her powerful senses caught wind of a feast by far more numerous and meaty than that the skinny Observers offered. Her eyes locked in on the Basilian empire, on its many wary knights and wizards and witches and magic folk standing beneath the moonlight.

Once she reached an ideal height, the dragon then aimed itself toward the Basilian Empire knowing full well that gravity with the added factor of her weight would give her an incredible speed which would render the magic users helpless against her. There simply wouldn't be any time to protect themselves against an indestructible dragon who'd do anything to feast. Anything.

So, the dragon descended upon the innocents.


	32. —The Spiteful Story Spinner pt.1—

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Now my friends, as almost all the main characters have met (save for one), it is now time for me provide yet another backstory. Yes, it involves—or revolves around—Haravac seeing as he somehow became the Main Character of the story instead of Aelly.... anyways, this backstory is necessary to explain as it pertains to the events within the prologue as well as Haravac's relationship with Zakaria, the emperor of the magic users, ruler of Basilian: the lost empire or whatever. Anyways, enjoy!!

To be immortal and powerful beyond belief is the common goal of any naive mortal. It is the driving force that forges one too many fictional villains out there. To be like a god is a desirable thing. Many people focus on the goal without thinking of the aftereffects of such a thing. 

Nobody realizes that to be a full fledged god you must be completely alone, festering in your thoughts, with no one to relate to, with no one to outlive you. Yes, even if there are other gods around you.

There is a treasure in being mortal and having a limited amount of time to exist. Time puts life into perspective so deeply it can either lead the mortal to fear their last hour or eagerly await it with the odd promise of a blessed afterlife. Point is, to be mortal is to be a stranger to death and to be a stranger to death is to... well it means you don't know what it's like not to exist, my love.

But the gods are not mortal. They know very well what it means to not exist for such was the case for a long immeasurable nonexistent time. Nothing and no-one was... or so was the case up until the gods came to be, brought into being by their sheer desire to exist. That desire was soon rebranded, renamed into something simple, something humanity itself could hope to comprehend. "Divinity" that was the rebrand... I constantly find myself grateful for it— for to explain such a complex thing would require for this humble narrator to divulge the secrets of a universe better left unknown. 

Now, onto the somber tale:

All by his lonesome, with absolutely no help from anyone, Haravac created the universe. Bringing forth planets out of nothing, creating whirlpools of darkness in which he freely tossed creations he deemed to be imperfect. And now just as he had created the universe the primordial god of old, forgotten by his own creation, sought to create war with his brethren. 

He descended upon the mortal realm in the form of a fragrant mist that hovered no more than an inch from the ground. This mist covered the entirety of the realm and trespassed upon every mortal home allowing Haravac to spy upon Elnes' newborn kingdom. 

It wasn't long before he realized that the once revered Book of All had been butchered and replaced with The Book of Levianon. A "holy" book which had redacted a grand majority of the gods, leaving behind Elnes and a few minor players (though even those minor players had but the one solitary mention in the whole script). This alone did not provoke his anger but rather brought his inspiration about as he then went on to spy on the Church of Levianon, exploring its many temples and garnering as much information on each religious official as he could. Soon enough Haravac had deciphered that the religious officials (namely, the three cardinals) residing within the Eastern temple would be easier to corrupt. Especially given how they weren't as pious as one would expect a religious official to be. 

But this was not the only useful piece of information Haravac had garnered. No. In fact he had come to find that there were three factions within the newborn empire which were at odds with each other: the religious faction, the scholarly faction, and the magic faction. The religious faction believed that the magic faction blasphemed against the gods (specifically Elnes) simply by existing at all. The magic faction in turn believed the religious faction to be blasphemers as well, as they considered their magic to be none other than a gift from the gods. The scholarly faction held little to no irritation with the magic faction given how the two seemed to agree that the religious faction had no place in acting so sanctimonious. Now the real rivalry was between the religious faction and the scholarly faction seeing as they were by far more vocal than the magic faction. The religious faction believed the scholar faction to be actively offensive to Elnes in their constant pursuit of knowledge and science, exploring the forbidden possibilities the world had to offer...

Still, in spite of their divergent ideals the three factions left one another alone agreeing that keeping the peace would be by far better than dealing with any kind of civil on rest.

Haravac disagreed. 

And so he sought out the scholars, looking for someone smart and vicious enough to use for his purposes. He searched and spied and searched until he finally came across an interesting duo. The duo was namely Professor Roman Jackson (one of many Barons within the empire) and his son Arthur Jackson. The only thing that glued the two together was the diseased baroness, Taylor Jackson, who had died due to bronchitis a month or two ago. With her death the two developed an odd relationship in which... well the two barely acknowledged each other. Their father son relationship was just sitting there collecting dust. And then Haravac came along and saw that young Arthur had all the makings of a tyrant: cunning, sharp, emotionally manipulative, the works. And so Haravac fashioned a quick plan.

A plan that required him to possess the body of the Eastern Temple's bishop, Joseph Finn. He quietly infiltrated the temple, giving mass, and holding meetings with the paladins. He did this for two weeks before randomly deciding to go through with his ideal. And so, ten days before he abandoned father Joseph's body he looked out the window and saw the sunset. He took inspiration from the sun to form a flimsy prophecy, a fake one, a rather brief one guaranteed to make the church break into a cold sweat. But before he delivered the prophecy to the three cardinals (his main targets at the moment) he made himself appear sick. 

He made himself wretch during mass, drawing forth public concern. He removed all manner of antibodies from father Joseph's system and proceeded to weaken his heart and liver as well. He made a show of screaming in obscure tongues in the middle of the night, forcing the nuns and cardinal Lovett to conduct hasty exorcisms (that never even worked) at odd hours. In the end he was bed ridden, with his limbs tied apart from one another so as to keep him from scratching at himself again in his staged delusions.

This all became public knowledge, everyone, including the emperor himself appeared to be very concerned with the man's health. And when it was revealed that his current state was the result of a divine message he couldn't decipher, public concern morphed into curiosity and curiosity fed all kinds of gossip. Soon enough the empire's eyes were on the Eastern temple and those eyes were not wavering. 

With this all happening around him, Haravac then called out to Oren and gave him the specific task to hold an ambush against the scholars.

"No blood must be drawn. No one besides you, Lovett and Newt should know of this."

"But why?!"

"Because the message that is killing me may kill the empire itself." He looked ahead, staring directly at the ceiling. "I hope that the scholars prove us all wrong when they decipher it—"

"Why would the scholars meddle in our affairs?!"

"Oren you don't understand," he sighed. "When you receive the message, and you will, you will seek out to change the truth... even if it means allying ourselves with those blasphemers. That is why, I urge you that if worse comes to worst and the scholars decipher a cruel prophecy, then by all means you must silence them before word gets out. Please. " 

"Very well, father Joseph." 

And so with a heavy, dramatic sigh, Haravac left the bishop's body, ending his life in the process. That very night, Haravac summoned a thunder storm whose lightning struck the temple over and over again, nearly setting it aflame as he himself descended upon the three sleeping cardinals, casting upon them a single sentence. Though he did this he did not make it easy for them. The first sentence: "From the south east comes the star" was delivered with the occult language of the underworld. The second sentence: "Once the star rises my castle falls." was delivered with the whimsical language of nature. And the third sentence: "Once my castle falls nothing stands." was delivered with the first tongue of man.

It took the cardinals six months and a day to decipher the prophecy and as expected, they panicked and could not accept it. And so, they called upon the scholars for a second opinion. Among those scholars was Professor Jackson, someone Haravac counted on appearing. 

When that second opinion reinforced the fact that the divine message was without a doubt one of destruction Cardinal Oren did as he had been instructed half a year ago. Each one of those scholars was killed the moment they set foot outside of the temple. And, just as he had specified, there was no bloodshed involved. Allowing for Haravac to take over Professor Jackson's body without scaring his emotionally frigid child in the process. 

He then made his way over to the Jackson residence and with a hammer he had bought on his way over, bruised his head and forced blood out from his right brow. He also managed to shatter a few teeth as well as break a few ribs and a finger. He tousled his hair and tore at his clothes and then stared at a random puddle near the road, checking out his reflection.

"I look like shit." He grinned. "Perfect!"

He then made himself look even more pathetic, as he dropped all ease from his gait and all but dragged his feet as he walked toward the home, calling out for Arthur as he burst through the door. As expected, the child did not respond at all and instead, a couple of maids took him to his chambers and fetched the child per his command. 

"Yes father?"

Haravac opened his one good eye then, seeing the ten year old chit closing the door behind him as he then walked further into the chamber. He weakly motioned for the child to come closer to his deathbed and all but gritted his teeth when the boy rolled his eyes in annoyance. Still the child complied and did as he was told.

"My boy," he took his hand. "I know I haven't been a great father."

"And?" 

"I am so sorry." He feigned fatigue. "I should have been there for you when you need—"

"I never really cared though."

He kept himself in check or else he'd find himself smacking a stranger's child upside the head. "I wish our relationship had been stronger. It's may fault you and I are practically strange—"

"Get to the point already."

He glared at the child. "Let me finish my sentences first."

"Your sentences are too lofty and overly dramatic. By the time you get to the point I'll be a grandfather."

"Fine. I'm dying you little shit." He snarled. "And I want to give you something before I hit the stupid bucket."

Haravac couldn't tell what startled the child so much. Whether it was the admission or the curse words, or maybe the fact that he was pretending to care about him at all. Still, in the end the kid's eyes widened and his brows shot skyward before he then said:

"Give it then." 

"Before I give it to you—"

The child groaned and drew back his head as if begging the gods to put him out of his misery.

"—you must know. This is the real prophecy the church wants to keep hidden. They will no doubt give out a fake message to the masses." He fished out a piece of paper containing the prophecy Professor Jackson had written in secret earlier and gave it to the boy. "I know you are smart. I believe in you kid. Use this as best as you can. I know you'll find a way."

The boy looked at the paper, nodding along to Haravac's words as he then walked away without saying a word of farewell to his father.

Once the door closed behind him, Haravac left professor Jackson's body.


	33. —The Spiteful Story Spinner pt.2—

With Haravac's subtle guidance Arthur became the emperor of Levianon, tossing out the Oren bloodline in the process. The very bloodline blessed by Elnes. 

But what made them so special? Why were they blessed? Short answer: The Orens were in fact a direct descendant of Elnes from when he was still a mortal. Before he became a demigod he had a daughter who spawned a child who spawned another and another and so on and so forth until the Oren bloodline became as strong as a river. Strong in genetics and strong in blessing. 

Knowing Elnes, if his progeny was in any way shape or form disrespected he'd return the favor in kind by cutting off his blessing from the nation he had forged. Which is why Haravac set the stage for the perfect coup by weaving a flimsy prophecy, influencing the cardinals into desecrating their vows of honesty, and manipulating a child sociopath into using that against them. And voila! The Oren bloodline was no more. Well.... it took Arthur a couple of years to get the job done but then again Haravac was a patient god who could hold grudges like no other.

And so with Elnes's blessing out of the picture the land of Leviannon fell into chaos and with a teenage kid on the throne anything was to be expected. Including the mass genocide of the South Eastern people. After all, Haravac's fake prophecy foretold of destruction coming from the south east; it must have given the poor child emperor anxiety to let them live another day. 

But Haravac wasn't done with the empire just yet. In spite of its many pestilences and droughts and economic downturns the empire itself remained peaceful, its people abstaining from blaming one another for their current downfalls. If anything the empire itself was turning on its brand new emperor. Haravac needed to fix that. After all, his main goal was to destroy Leviannon completely, from the inside out.

Which is why he went on horseback and made his way to the south east. He stepped on the ash of the civilization that once was and with a single snap of his fingers he erected a palace so big and so grand it put the Leviannon imperial palace to shame. He pronounced himself king of the castle and made himself silks and jewels and fertile soil. Haravac's newborn kingdom had all it needed to thrive on its own and only one person to enjoy it all. This in mind Haravac sat down for a couple of weeks, enjoying his lavish meals and glorious jewels. He created small animals and expressive plants to keep him company during that time, biding his time. Knowing full well that the teenage emperor of Leviannon was seething, seeking a good reason to destroy his brand new castle.

And sure enough as Haravac had expected, Arthur made his move once the political unrest became too much for him to bear. He once again black mailed the religious faction into directing the public's attention to Haravac's tiny kingdom with the full intention of blaming it for all that was wrong in the world. Giving himself an excuse to destroy it. But in his short sightedness the emperor failed to realize that by placing the blame upon a magic kingdom he was also placing the blame on magic. And by placing the blame on magic well... magic users were no longer tolerated.

Mass executions took place. Magicians were burned alive in the comfort of their homes. Witches had their mouths sewn shut before being ultimately beheaded. And since the magic users of the time only knew how to use domestic magic (i.e., cleaning spells, healing spells,) they had no way of defending themselves against the constant attacks. 

Which is why they all fled to the south eastern kingdom. Only of course, Haravac did not welcome them. His initial intention was to watch them all die massacred from afar after all. And he did fully expect for them to seek asylum in his big stupid palace so he had erected a confusion spell ahead of time leaving hundreds of magic users walking in circles for weeks on end before dying of exhaustion. Not one of them had come within ten feet of his iron gates; not even the sharpest of witches.

Or so was the case up until a seven year old orphan boy came into the picture.

His name was Zakaria Oren


	34. —The Spiteful Story Spinner pt. 3—

Haravac was unlike anyone Zakaria Oren the first had ever encountered. For one, he was beautiful as if his visage had been carved out of pure white marble by an obsessive sculptor. His eyes were an odd color, somewhere between green and blue. His black hair was long and luscious as it attempted to reach his lower back. He wore golden sandals and a white toga beneath dark blue robes that clung to his shoulders as if for dear life. Sitting on his head was a crown made entirely of crystal.

Currently, Haravac was in the gardens near the gates of his palace observing his most recent creation: a reflective flower. Now this flower didn't show a person's physical reflection but rather their emotional reflection.

The flower's petals were pitch black and absolutely enormous though they curled into themselves as if in hopes to imitate a rose. It had no thorns though to touch it meant an instantaneous rash that could last up to five hours. Its leafs were circular near blue in hue and veiny, keeping the weeds and soil well out of sight.Given how the flower only bloomed within proximity of its own species Haravac had made an entire flowerbed dedicated to the capricious thing. After all he loved all of his creations whole heartedly.

"Did you know, that if dried and crushed, the petals of this flower make for a good honest powder?"

Zakaria let out a gasp as he drew further into the bushes he was hiding in. Up until recently he hadn't expected to be caught. His main mission was to find a way into the palace and guide what was left of the magic users inside. But now that he was caught well... that was all up in smoke now.

"Of course you didn't." Haravac grinned to himself. "I just made this beauty here. Her name is Basivia-honura.... in the tongue of the gods it means: painful truth."

When Zakaria didn't respond Haravac sighed and aimed a finger at the bushes. "Will you be a dear and give me the child?"

Zakaria assumed that he had been speaking to the bushes he was hiding beneath which is why with a frightened intake of breath he dragged himself forward and as far away from the plant as he could. Only to realize he had been wrong.

A powerful paw took a hold of the back of his tunic and pulled him several feet in the air before tossing him over a shoulder. All Zakaria saw was white fur before being tossed to the ground, at the king's feet.

Looking up Zakaria saw what looked like a cloud with limbs. That's it. That was the only way he could describe the dark eyed creature.

"Thank you dear." Haravac said from behind. "Go on now."

The creature nodded and turned around before racing toward the nearest wall and jumping over it, chirping a brief farewell to its creator as it went. Leaving the seven year old boy alone with a rather unpredictable god.

Though Haravac spared him but a glance, Zakaria had the feeling he knew each and every single cell in his body individually—personally even. This was further proven when the god sighed and said:

"I suppose I wasn't careful enough when eradicating your bloodline."

Zakaria stared up at the god, rooted to the spot, processing his nonchalant words. "Y-you killed—"

He nodded, no emotion cast upon his face.

"Why?!"

"Guess."

Zakaria opened his mouth and closed it and opened it again and closed it. He realized that he was speaking to someone shameless, someone who could not be brought to guilt with mere tears. This was someone without a heart to offer humanity.

"Question." Haravac raised a finger. "How did you get past my spells?"

"I—I..."

When he failed to offer a coherent response Haravac leaned down to his level. "You will not leave until you answer my question, Zakaria."

In spite of his declaration, Zakaria still attempted to run away only to trip. Looking down at his feet he realized that the weeds and roots on the ground had somehow managed to wrap themselves around his ankles without him noticing. Startled he looked up at the man who proclaimed to have killed his family and saw that he was towering over him, a mocking grin lining his features.

"I—I!"

He lifted a brow, waiting.

"I don't know!" He finally said. "I followed a red eyed raven here—it guided me to the opening behind the bushes there!"

"A red eyed raven?"

"Yes!"

He raised both brows. "For Risa to drop her neutrality for a brat like you... interesting."

"W—who is—"

"Risa is the goddess of the underworld." He waved him off. "For what purpose did you spy on me, by the way?"

When the weeds and roots released him he bounced back to his feet, garnering a bit of courage. "I wanted to find a way to guide people here without you noticing."

"And she guided you here..." he grinned before covering his mouth as if to hide a chuckle. "She must be sick of all the incoming traffic then."

"What?"

He shook his head and snapped his fingers. Once to temporarily remove the confusion spells around his palace. And twice to open the gates.

"Come with me kid."


	35. —The Spiteful Story Spinner pt. 4—

In no time at all, Haravac's once vacant castle became an asylum for the weak and he had unintentionally become their king. However, in spite of his reluctance, Haravac was not one to do things in a half assed manner. The guy's motto was: Go big or go home. 

So, the magic users found themselves scrutinized by Haravac upon their arrival to his castle. He made it painfully obvious that he held little regard for how uncomfortable he made each and every single one of them feel. He had a purpose and little to time to enact it after all.

He judged the old and the young alike (including the newborn) and appointed them a specific position in his kingdom. He appointed those who showed great stamina and mental fortitude as knights. He appointed those who had mental fortitude, wisdom, and creativity as his engineers. He appointed those who were honest and empathetic as bankers. He appointed royal advisors, chancellors, judges, lawyers, and crafted political system that sustained democracy and monarchy in equal parts. This in mind he crafted his own coin, colored jade with its numerical value written in silver at its center, and named said coin: Basi. Short for Basilian, the name he had settled on for his new kingdom.

That aside he had appointed Zakaria as his one and only apprentice. Seeing as he had been aided by Orisa of all deities he felt it unwise to disregard such a mortal. So in spite of his rebellious nature Haravac taught him as much magic as he felt appropriate for his age. Meanwhile, he went out of his way to teach his knights defensive magic meant to ward off any kind of enemy that would dare endanger his people.

"Why don't you teach us offensive magic?" Zakaria asked. "Why must we defend ourselves without hurting them back?!"

Haravac stared down at the seventeen year old boy. He had grown as tall as he was and his red hair had grown long enough for him to hack it short with a nearby blade leaving several patches of hair standing on end. His freckles had all but disappeared only to be replaced by scars he had gained from fighting apprentice knights whenever they dared call him a kiss-ass. A faint bruise was forming on his cheek though he failed to notice as he went on and on about yet another righteous cause against Haravac. Currently he wore a dark blue robe and brown leggings that were green at the knees while his boots had all but lost their laces. 

"Gods you look homeless..."

"What?" Zakaria frowned. "Aren't you paying attention?!"

Haravac sighed and continued walking past the boy and onto his throne before answering. "Those knights you fought today. How do you judge them?"

"They..." he frowned. "I don't think they are apt for their positions."

"Therefore you don't think they deserve to wield a sword?"

"I—"

"What makes you think they'd deserve to learn how to kill a man with a mere flick of the wrist when they barely even deserve to wield their wooden swords?"

"I do not hold all the knights to the same substandard!"

He quirked a brow. "You don't?"

"You have thousands of men and women who are ready to die for you!" He went on. "Myself included. Doesn't that make us worthy of such knowledge?"

He leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Can you imagine being torn apart by the air around you? Having your entire breath sucked out of you until you died? Can you imagine being burned on the spot? Can you imagine believing that the only thing you need to defend yourself and your loved ones is a measly sword forged with the same beliefs only to realize in your final moments how horribly wrong you are?"

"... Where are you going with this?"

"Do you think our enemies deserve that?"

"Yes! A million times, yes!" He snapped. "Have you forgotten what they've done to us?! They burned us alive, hung us, enslaved and starved us! Of course—"

"Fear and ignorance forge violence and when violence meets violence it only ever feeds its progenitors." Haravac sighed. "So I ask again: do you think our enemies deserve to have a good reason to fear us?" 

Zakaria remained silent, unable to come up with an adequate response.

"Do you think our beloved knights deserve to sully their hands in unworthy blood?" He went on. "To be haunted by death every night? Do you think our kingdom deserves its very own river of blood?"

He shook his head as he stared down at the floor. 

"The reason I don't teach them offensive magic is because they don't need it. Or did you forget a god walks amongst you?"

He looked up at him then. "But you are our king! We should defend and protect you! That was the oath we took as knights!"

"First off, you are not a knight. Secondly: I am not one for mortal oaths." He waved him off. "Now begone, I have a headache and dozens of annoying advisors to deal with."

Zakaria bowed and left the throne room then, leaving the god to rub his temples.

********

********

A month later....

"Why didn't you teach us advanced medical magic before?!"

"Because there wasn't a pandemic before." Haravac countered.

"That's not a valid excuse your majesty!" Zakaria countered. "Thousands of lives could've been saved had you simply bothered to teach our medics healing magic!"

"Well that's just tragic."

Haravac grinned to himself as he walked down the hall, making his way toward the dining room. He had grown to detest Zakaria's righteous, holier-than-thou attitude and reveled whenever his actions struck a nerve. And all things considered, he didn't think it'd take Zakaria that long to stage a coup. After all, Zakaria had garnered much more of a following than Haravac currently had. And what with the current grumbling of an incoming war from Levianon now that nearly all of its magic users had fled to Basilian... It was all a matter of time. Everybody was still quite unhappy with his reluctance to teach offensive magic after all.

But he didn't do this for no reason after all. He knew that his charms could only last so long, he knew that it wouldn't take Zakaria long to come into his own as a wizard amongst wizards, he knew that he would inevitably be kicked out of his throne. Giving a lethal weapon to someone you know would kill you given the chance is a dumb course of action after all. So to ensure his own safety when the time came, he went out of his way to keep his mortal magic users's knowledge down to a minimum. It was all very well thought out.

However, Zakaria had other plans and there was no way he could keep him from questioning his every move (or lack thereof). So to keep him happy he taught him over complicated spells the young genius was guaranteed to fail.

He taught him a simple teleportation spell that worked on any distance. However, Zakaria could never hope to teleport any single object correctly; always having his targets raining from the sky rather than safely delivered in his intended direction. He taught him how to wield shadow magic which controlled any one person's movements only to have him lose his own shadow upon the first try, never to find it. The list went on and it kept him at bay.

Or so he thought up until five hundred Levianese soldiers presented themselves at his kingdom's gates. They were a brave lot and also quite boisterous. They had riled up the knights to such a degree that they were trembling with rage. Had Haravac not been there to keep them in check things would've taken a grisly turn.

He watched from his balcony, arms crossed as Zakaria ordered the knights to barricade the intruders so as to keep them from going any further.

"Tsk." He said then, watching as the arrogant Levianese knights trampled on past his busted gates. "I forgot to re-cast my shielding spell five years ago.... I knew I forgot something."

"Is that really important right now?!" 

"It is." He grinned. "Because had that spell been in place they would've been eaten alive by my observers."

Zakaria gave him a wide eyed stare just as he whistled. As if in response to the tune, the five hundred Levianese knights stopped moving for a couple seconds before abruptly collapsing. Dead.

"Come now, we've important things to attend to."

Zakaria watched as the king walked past the sheer curtains. And for the second time in his life, he felt afraid of the god as he remembered that this was the same deity that had killed the Oren bloodline—his family. Was it this easy to eradicate them? He wondered.

Will it be that easy to eradicate him?


	36. —The Spiteful Story Spinner pt.5–

"....."

"....." Haravac held both hands to his cane, heavily leaning into it in case his knees gave way.

"....."

"....."

"....."

".... Why did you make yourself look like an old man?" Zakaria asked finally.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His voice cracked halfway through every syllable. 

Zakaria ran a hand through his hair and massaged the back of his neck as he stared out the window, gazing out into the courtyard. The king's chambers had become home to a hermit; one who had holed himself up in his room for a whole month before Zakaria lost his patience and kicked the door down only to find his wretched mentor looking like a walking corpse.

He wore teal colored robes atop a silk black toga with a brown sash. His sandals were tightly tied about his now flaccid shins, keeping them perfectly in place as his knees wobbled side to side. His face was sunken in and dark brown circles coated his eyes, further enhancing the old age Haravac was trying to convey. His once full lips deflated, curling into themselves as the rest of his skin attempted to reach the floor he tread upon. His hair had gone from pitch black to snow white and thin enough for anyone to see through. His beard had grown though it didn't go past his jaw and his hairs pointed recklessly every which way, remaining airborne in spite of gravity as he curled above his cane. 

In all the ten years Zakaria's known Haravac he could never hope to understand his actions. Random as they were. He knew there always had to be a reason behind them, however what that reason was was something Haravac always kept close to his heart... or at least the stupid hunk of stone he replaced it with. 

"Whatever," Zakaria let out a breath. "They sent a platoon of lethal assassins last week, did you know?"

He nodded, scratching at his scraggly beard. 

"Luckily I was there and killed them in time." 

Once again he nodded. 

"You're not going to ask how I did it?"

"You created a death spell of your own, didn't you?"

He frowned. "I did."

"Predictable." He gave him a full toothed grin. "But all the more impressive if I do say so myself."

"What should we do with the corpses?" 

"What about 'em?"

"They may have been Levianon knights and foul ones at that," he made his way onto the nearest loveseat and plopped down. "But they're still people with loved ones awaiting their arrival."

"And?"

"The locals want to send them back. Our people want nothing to do with... that."

"By that you mean Levianon." He turned to stare out the window, gazing past his newly erected tower at the center of the courtyard, as he stretched out a hand and held out a finger. 

Zakaria watched as a bird landed on Haravac's finger. It had a black beak and black talons, and purple feathers that shined blue once the sunlight hit them right. "Is that a new creation?"

Haravac nodded as the bird bounced off his finger and onto his shoulder before excitedly chirping a smooth tune into his ear. He nodded as if in response, speaking in a language Zakaria couldn't hope to decipher though he knew it was the language of nature itself, before the bird finally flew away.

"I call it the Osomsihc." He turned to look at him from over his shoulder. "In the tongue of the gods, it means 'gossipmonger'."

"What did it tell you, if I may be privy to such information?"

"Twenty thousand Levianese knights are on their way over." He grinned at him. "and they are furious."

Zakaria jumped back on his feet, pale as all hell. "Twenty thousand?!"

He nodded as he walked past him, striking his cane on the floor as he went. 

"We already have five hundred and twelve corpses stinking up the gates!!" He followed after him. "What are we going to do with twenty-thousand more?! The people refuse to bury them in our cemeteries! It's a unanimous sentiment! We want those rotten dead weights out of here and back to their stupid families! Har—"

He crossed the threshold as two guards held his doors open for him. "Thank you." He said to them before saying to Zakaria: "Feed them to the pigs then."

"And poison our meat?!"

"You know that's not how it works."

"I am not eating anything touched by a stinking Levianese scum!" He snapped. "Once we're done—"

"We?" He laughed. "We?!"

"Yes, you and I and the knights together. We'll overcome them?"

"Your cute death spell only killed twelve at a time and afterwards you were bedridden for three days," he turned to him. "Who do you think nursed you back to health? And now you want to take on twenty thousand enemy soldiers?!"

If his admission caught him by surprise he didn't show it: "That's not my only offensive spell!" 

"You are but a wizard and they," he gestured at the knights standing guard to his chambers. "Are but mortal knights with families of their own. Do you really want to endanger not only yours but their lives as well because you think you—ugh!" He clutched his heart and bent forward gritting his teeth.

The two guards made to move forward only for Zakaria to hold out a hand. His expression was one of extreme tiredness."Stop faking heart failure. You no good actor."

"It..." his knees gave way; he lost his grip on his cane and collapsed onto the floor with a grunt. "Hurts!.... help!"

"Sire," one of the guards said. "I think this is real."

"Yeah," chimed the other. "Just look at him, he looks like an expired raisin with financial problems."

"More like a corpse who's too stupid to realize it's already dead." 

Haravac glared up at them. "I... am.... dying!"

"Alright," Zakaria shrugged a shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Nothing's holding you back. Die already."

As if in retaliation Haravac enacted the time reversal spell and brought himself back to his youthful countenance as he pushed himself back up, clicking his teeth in annoyance. "If I was the Levianese king I would've beheaded the three of you by now."

"Why me? I really thought you were dying!"

"Fine." He conceded. "I'd hang you and give you a proper burial afterwards."

"Much appreciated."

Haravac stared at the knight; a boy no older than twenty. "You would've been a less annoying apprentice, Jeffrey."

He beamed at the king, fully ignoring the dirty look his coworker was tossing his way as Zakaria rolled his eyes and followed after Haravac.

"So why did you turn into an old man?"

"I thought it’d grant me sympathy points."

"Sympathy?" He quirked a brow. "Whatever for?"

"To avoid death."

"Death? But you're a god!"

"No, you misunderstand." He waved him off. "Orisa and Nova are the most insufferable mother son duo in the underworld."

"I see..." he frowned. "But then who would want to kill you?"

The look Haravac gave him sent a chill down his spine. It once again reminded him that for all his foolish behavior he was still cunning enough to know an enemy on sight.

Zakaria could only hope he was overthinking.

**********

**********

When they had reached the gates, the stench of dead bodies permeated the air. The corpses of the previous Levianese knights as well as the small recent platoon, were stacked haphazardly against the walls, collecting both maggots and flies and the occasional butterfly. On the other side of those walls were twenty thousand knights all lined up with five generals at the front and a single paladin stationed himself before the rest.

They all stood ten feet away from the gates, but even so, the stench of five hundred and some dead bodies didn't fail to reach their nostrils. And with the stench came the hurt, the grief, the indignity, and finally the rage among the knights.

They all expected to encounter a massive army of witches and wizards but what met them instead was a teenage apprentice and a handsome god king with nothing better to do.

"I take this as your sign of surrender?" Asked the paladin as he dismounted his horse.

Haravac lifted a brow, resisting a mocking grin. 

Zakaria shook his head. "We wish for you to return from whence you came."

"Was I talking to you, brat?" The paladin snapped, aiming a finger at Haravac who sported a crown atop his head. "I was talking to this one!"

"Zakaria speaks on my behalf whenever he wishes." Haravac grinned. "I wouldn't allow him to speak if I didn't already agree with his thought process." 

"You can read my mind?"

"I've practically raised you from infancy and you think I wouldn't know you like the palm of my hand?" He gave him a judgmental stare. "Oh kid..."

"Sh—shut up!" His cheeks turned bright red. "He called you 'this one' just now!"

He turned his attention back to the paladin. "You did, didn't you?"

"I meant no disrespect."

"And yet I feel incredibly disrespected." He turned back to Zakaria. "How about you?"

"Oh... well my feelings are hurt."

"I..." the paladin had no way of knowing how to process the situation. "I apologize."

"Oh my whatever shall we do? That's no proper apology." Haravac sighed. "Here in Basilian, we take actions much more to heart than mere spoken apologies."

"Then what do you wish us to do?"

Haravac let out a macabre grin then. "Kill yourselves."

Then, without a moment's hesitation, the paladin as well as the generals as well as all of the twenty thousand knights pulled out a small vial from within their pockets. And in the same moment they downed the poisonous contents before falling to the ground, lifeless.

And now the Basilian kingdom had a total of twenty thousand five hundred and twelve corpses to dispose of.


End file.
